


The Catch

by DistractedBySparklyThingsAndToast



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alabama, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Automobile Wreck, BDSM, Donas Fraser, Ellen Fraser Matchmaker, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Frank Randall's not an asshole in this one, Hospitalization, I'm stressed so Jamie gets it this time, Ice Cream, Light Bondage, Louboutin shoes, Punishment, Self-Sacrifice, Serious Injuries, Spanking, Sparkly things but no toast, Team Ellen, The Greedies Have It, Whiplash Fic, White Lasagna, agape love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 52,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedBySparklyThingsAndToast/pseuds/DistractedBySparklyThingsAndToast
Summary: A split-second decision alters Claire Beauchamp's life forever; but is hers the only one changed?
Relationships: Brian Fraser/Ellen MacKenzie Fraser, Claire Beauchamp/Geillis Duncan, Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Fergus Fraser/Jamie Fraser, Henry Beauchamp/Julia Beauchamp, Lambert Beauchamp/Firouz
Comments: 706
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SanRafJol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanRafJol/gifts).



The Catch  
For SanRafJol – she knows why.  
As with all my fics at this point in time, there is no such thing as Covid-19, because, yep, I’m still in quarantine, going on my tenth month, thank you very much...  
Yep, my peeps, it’s another Whiplash Fic! (01/21/21 – not so whiplash-y anymore... sorta morphed into a slow boat to China, hasn’t it?) I gotta get this out before it causes mayhem. It may change drastically; that includes the title. Please let me know “thumbs up” or “thumbs down,” on this giraffe, alright? Just consider me your favorite Roman word gladiator like those of old, aye?   
For those of you who are not familiar with “The Catch,” it refers to a spectacular American football game, played on January 10, 1982. The NFC (National Football Conference) game pitted the San Francisco 49ers against the Dallas Cowboys. Joe Montana (number 16), quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers, threw a pass to his teammate, wide receiver Dwight Clark (number 87). Clark, 6’4” (193 cm) jumped and caught the 89-yard (81.4-meter) pass. Clark was barely within bounds; the pass grazed his fingertips, but he scored a touchdown (a goal) and the rest is US sports history. I was 11 and watching the game in real time with my family. We screamed and jumped up and down when Clark caught the ball; it seemed impossible that he’d be able to do it. “The Catch” ensured that the Niners (as they’re called locally) won the game and advanced to the mother of all football games, the Superbowl, which they won. Here’s a link:   
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14CKs0rY0jE

ALERT TO THOSE WHO HAVE READ THIS BEFORE:  
I was really struggling with this story and that’s why updates have been so slow, and I am sorry for that. I have consulted with the characters in the story and we all agreed that it needed a major overhaul. So here’s the story. It’s flowing much easier and I believe I shall be able to maintain a somewhat more regular posting schedule. My apologies to those who don’t like the changes; honestly, I was near to abandoning the old one, and I loathe abandoned fics, so I thought I better think of something better and not be a super-jerk and tantrum my way out of writing... thanks for understanding, my peeps,   
xx  
Distracted

Chapter 1  
31-year-old Claire Beauchamp was having an extraordinarily good day. She just found out that she’d been offered the vacant general surgery post at University of Aberdeen’s University Hospital and she’d accepted gleefully. She’d finally finished her residency at the university’s medical school and was, understandably, exhausted at the moment, but she was excited for what her future might hold. Plus, her best friend, Joe Abernathy, was working at the same hospital as in general medicine, and her best girlfriend, Geilis Duncan, had been offered a job on the same day as Claire in the emergency department. The Three Stooges, as they liked to call themselves, had met on their first day in medical school and had stuck to each other like lovesick barnacles ever since. Claire had to pinch herself. Her dreams had finally come true. She’d asked for a week to rest and the hospital obligingly pushed back her start date. Originally from northern Alabama, her southern lilt always intrigued Scots; it wasn’t like they had a lot of exposure to Alabamans, after all.   
Claire’s mother was a Moriston and an Aberdeen native. Julia Moriston had been a high school exchange student to Huntsville when she was 17 and met and fell hard for Henry Beauchamp, scion of an old Huntsville family. She was required to go back to Scotland after her year abroad, but she returned to Alabama as soon as she could, right after her 18th birthday, with a scholarship for a local college firmly in hand. Julia and Henry waited until they graduated to marry. He got a job at as a math teacher at a high school across town and she worked as a geography teacher at the high school two blocks away from their home. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp came ass-first into the world three years after they married. She had a close relationship with her parents, who never had any more children.   
Claire excelled in school, eventually becoming fluent in written and spoken French after spending her junior year of high school with some of her mother’s cousins in Paris. They made sure that all she read, spoke and heard in her year was French. English was not permitted1, period. Looking back years later, Claire realized that the “baptism by alphabet,” as she called it, was the key to her fluency. Her maternal grandmother had been sent from Paris to Scotland during World War II for safety and had fallen in love with Ian Moriston. She made sure to teach her children, Lamb and Julia, to speak and write French fluently. Both of Claire’s parents had studied French in high school and college, as well. Julia had made sure to teach her daughter to speak and write the Gàidhlig fluently. Naturally, she also spoke fluent “Southern,” and visitors were often amused at how the little family would mix the French, Gàidhlig and English into a word porridge only understood fully by the three of them. She had decided early on that she wanted to become a surgeon and focused all her energy on attaining the grades to be accepted into a good medical school when the time came.  
Sadly, Henry and Julia passed away in a car crash when Claire was 18 and a student at the local junior college. After Julia’s passing, Claire wrote to her mother’s older brother, Alasdair Lambert “Lamb” Moriston immediately, informing him of his sister’s death. He quickly offered her a place for as long as she wanted one. Moving to Scotland was easy for Claire, as her parents had ensured that she got dual UK-American citizenship. Lamb had inherited the Moriston house from his and Julia’s parents. She arrived a week after the house had been sold and the estate dissolved. Claire was grateful for the roof over her head and made sure to keep the house clean and Lamb and his husband, Firouz, well-fed. The trio got along fine and Claire was delighted to discover that her uncle and Firouz spoke French, so she taught them the word porridge she’d grown up with at home. Lamb broke down into sobs the first time Claire mixed languages. Horrified, she asked him gently why he was crying. He replied that he and Julia had done the exact same thing when they were children, which made Claire dissolve into tears with the ache of missing Julia and Henry. They hugged each other for the first time that evening and their relationship sailed from strength to strength from then on.

Claire was so pleased about her job offer that she phoned Lamb and said she was going to treat herself to an ice cream at Brown’s, a renowned and very popular cafe on Union Street. She ordered a double-scoop in a cup, raspberry cheesecake and peanut-butter and dark cocoa nib. She smiled and ordered the same for “her boys,” thinking about how much they’d enjoy the treat. She scraped her cup absolutely clean and decided since it was so beautiful that she’d walk home instead of taking a taxi and set out to window-shop before heading home to celebrate. She loved doing this type of “tantric shopping,” as her friend Geilis called it. Claire could look at a metric ton of pretty things in shop windows and dream about having them – all the while, keeping her money safely in her pocketbook. She’d just reached the corner of Atholl and Lewis, and stood, waiting for the light to change so she could cross safely. She felt a sharp poke at her rib and looked down, irritated.   
It was a young boy of about eight with curly brown hair and soulful brown eyes, “Je suis désolé Madame, je ne voulais pas vous bousculer!” he said, blushing.   
Claire smiled, “Pas de mal, mon garçon." (I am sorry, Madame, I didn’t mean to jostle you; no harm done, lad).   
They both looked out at the street again. Quite a ways behind them, a shop’s doorbell jingled and a deep baritone warned, “Fergus, attendez-moi, d'accord?”  
“Oui, Milord,” (Fergus, wait for me, alright?” Yes, Milord) answered the boy impatiently.   
Claire hid her smile and looked out over the street.   
She stiffened when the boy cried out joyously, “Grandda et Granny!” and without warning, darted out into the street.   
Claire watched him fearfully and then she heard it - a car had lurched crazily around the corner, fishtailing (https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/fishtail), tires screeching, and headed straight for the little boy.   
Terrified, the man behind her screamed “Fergus!” and tried to run into the street to get to the little boy, but an afternoon matinee had just ended at the movie theater next to the ice cream store and the sidewalk was choked with people.   
All Claire heard was “save the baby!” and she only saw the silky brown curls of her target. Ice cream forgotten, her feet flew over the pavement, directly in front of the speeding car. She dove for the boy, rolling and tucking tightly to protect his body with hers from the out-of-control sedan. His grandfather had run into the street trying to intercept his seventh grandchild and yanked him out of her arms. The grandfather bundled Fergus under his arm like a rugby ball, whirled around and ran to the sidewalk as fast as he could.   
Grandmother pulled Fergus into her waiting arms and screamed, “Jamie, be careful!”   
But Jamie was so focused on reaching the woman that he didn’t hear anything around him. He was stretching out his arms to pull the woman to safety. He was right in front of his son’s rescuer and could see pretty freckles on the bridge of her wee nose. Just a few feet more –he was so close, now! The car skidded a bit on some gravel and turned slightly in the woman’s direction. The drunk overcorrected, causing the back of the car to fishtail right into Jamie, who was knocked onto his back. On the sidewalk, Jamie’s father had to hold his wife back from running to her son, right into the chaos. Jamie’s head hit the road with an echoing “thunk!” He struggled to get up, seeing two of everything and shook his head to clear it. For James Alexander Malcom MacKenzie Fraser, time slowed to a snail’s slither. His vision cleared just in time for him to watch, sickened, as the tiny woman tried to roll out of the path of the oncoming machine. She wasn’t fast enough. With a gut-wrenching crack, the driver’s left front tire hit her pelvis, pushed her on her back and came to a stop on her lower leg. Claire screamed and started going into shock. Dimly, she heard screams and wished the stupid cow would shut the fuck up, whoever she was.   
Someone behind her yelled, “Call 999! And the cops!”   
Sounds moved farther and farther away from her, like she was in a mouth of a cave. Within seconds, Claire heard no more.   
Jamie got his feet underneath himself, finally. He vaulted over the car’s hood and bellowed, “Lass!” and ran to her.   
He yanked open the car door and saw and smelled the driver, who smelled like a damn brewery.   
He roared, “Gabh a-mach às a ’chàr, a mhic galla! (Get out of the car, you son of a bitch!)” and ripped the unconscious man out of his seat.   
The drunkard flew through the air and his skull made a wet crunching sound as it met the pavement.   
He shouted to Claire, “Mistress, I’m goin’ ta get this car off yer leg. Hang on tight!”   
He hurriedly slammed the car into reverse and backed the car off the woman’s leg. She screamed again and was silent.   
On the sidewalk, Brian and Ellen Fraser hugged Fergus and neither could stop their tears. The crowd turned as if one when they heard the police and emergency services’ sirens. Jamie jumped out of the car and took her pulse. Thank Christ, she was still with him. He moved to her head and carefully stroked her hair, whispering his thanks in the Gàidhlig, helpless to do anything else. Tears streamed down his face as he looked at her face, its beauty interrupted with blood, cuts and swelling that was morphing into bruises. Her now-broken body had been sacrificed to save his son, a complete stranger. In his entire life, the man had never witnessed a more selfless act of agape love (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agape#:~:text=Within%20Christianity%2C%20agape%20is%20considered,love%20of%20one's%20fellow%20man) and he was in awe of the woman on the pavement. Right there, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser made a vow to the Blessed Virgin to do whatever it took to show her how grateful he was, even if it took a lifetime.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys:  
> The creativity fairy dumped a bucket of creativity on my caboose, so I'm releasing this radio-collared specimen into the wild! I can't promise a regular posting schedule, but I'll do as well as I can! Enjoy, and please give me a shout and let me know what you think!

The police and rescue arrived and cordoned off the scene and started interviewing witnesses. Jamie kept whispering to the prostrate woman, praying for her survival, begging her to hang on. He knew that although her wounds didn’t look life-threatening, that was no measure of their severity. He heard the squeaking rattle of a gurney behind him. Two EMTs pulled the bed right next to the woman. They surrounded her, opening their kits quickly. They’d already brought a cervical collar with them and eased the woman’s ivory neck into the protective device. 

The blond spoke into a radio on his shoulder, “Aberdeen? Looks like a pelvic fracture and possible crushed lower leg, contusions and possible head injury.” 

He listened to the hospital’s directions and said, “Aye, 10-4, Aberdeen. Bonnet out.”

The brunet, who wore a nametag with “MacQuarrie” on it asked Jamie, “Mate, do ye know how her lower leg got crushed?” 

Jamie cleared his throat, “Aye. The driver hit her with his car an’ it came ta rest on her leg. I pulled his drunk ass out o’ the car an’ got the car offa her leg.” 

The EMTs nodded solemnly, “Aye, ‘twas good, mate, ye may ha’ saved her leg! Would ye like ta help me get her on the gurney?” Jamie nodded wordlessly and the men lifted their precious cargo onto the bed. The brunet set up an IV and gave her an oxygen mask. 

Bonnet asked Jamie, “Is she a friend of yours?”

Jamie looked up at the man, almost as tall as he was and swallowed, whispering, “Nay. I dinna ken her. She ran into the street and got ma lad out of the way of the car before I could get to him. She saved his life.” 

Overcome with emotion, the hulking redhead cried out in despair and sank to his knees, hands covering his face, sobbing. Brian Fraser had been watching his son and ran underneath the tape when he explained to the police officer who he was. He crouched next to his son and rubbed his back soothingly, simply allowing Jamie space to emote. Jamie grabbed Brian and howled in his Da’s arms. 

The EMTs finished covering Claire and transported her to the wagon, but not before the brunet patted Jamie’s shoulder comfortingly and looked at Brian, “We’ll be transporting her to Aberdeen University Hospital, Sir. “

“Aye, tapadh leat.” (thank you)

The EMT grinned and replied, “Tha fàilte ort, a charaid.” (you’re welcome, my friend). 

Jamie looked up at Brian and his father helped him to stand as some police came to interview the two of them. After Brian and Jamie told the officers everything they saw, the officers thanked them and suggested they go have a dram or a coffee to settle their nerves. 

Brian helped him up and they all crossed the street to where Ellen and Fergus had been standing, “Yer Mam took Fergus home wi’ her, mo chridhe. She figured ye’d want ta calm down a bit before seein’ him again.” 

Brian put his arm around his son’s shoulder. 

“Come on, a bhalaich, let’s go get a coffee and a sweet, aye?” 

Jamie smiled a watery smile, “Aye, Da, tha’s a good idea.” 

They walked a couple of blocks and turned into “The Nook and Cranny,” a favorite coffee and breakfast place of theirs (A/N: I just made the cafe up. It isn’t real – Updated A/N: I hit reality, according to a reader. There actually IS a cafe with a name very similar IN FRASERBURGH, SCOTLAND!?! Holy fluffy cow, Batman! <https://en-gb.facebook.com/NooksCrannies43/>) They walked inside and took a table near the back. They ordered a carafe of the house’s French roast and a platter of pastries to share. 

Jamie took a deep draught of his coffee before speaking. “Da, I’m torn between being thankful that he’s not hurt and wantin’ ta strangle him fer what he did. I canna tell ye how sorry I am that the wee lass got hurt – he should know better! How-how do ye ever express adequate thanks ta someone fer savin’ – “ and here, Jamie choked down a sob, “fer savin’ yer bairn’s life wi’ nary a thought fer their own?” 

Jamie’s eyes filled with tears again and they rolled down his face unhindered until Brian handed his son a paper napkin.

“Aye, ye have every reason ta be upset with Fergus, Jamie. Ye say he ‘should’ ha’ known better. Remember, son, he’s still a little boy. Bairns tha’ age don’ have the spatial reasoning adults have and they have even less impulse control. They engage in ‘magical thinking,’ assuming because they can see someone that that person can see them, too. Remember, with wee Jamie, when he was tiny and would play ‘hide and seek’ with ye? He’d bury his head in a pillow and couldn’t see ye; for him, that mean ye couldn’a see him, either. In Fergus’ mind, he may not have even realized that the car was even there. All he saw was Ellen and me.” The older man ran a gnarled hand through his thick ebony hair, “An’ I know ye, Jamie, ye feel like this is yer fault.” Brian looked his son straight in the face, hands on Jamie’s cheeks, “Fergus made a mistake, aye? But ye are in no way responsible fer what happened. Perhaps ye should go to the hospital tomorra and visit the wee lass and bring ‘er some flowers, aye? Go and try ta see ‘er, but remember, it’s her choice to see ye. No matter how much ye want to express yer gratitude, she may not be able to accept it or face ye. I think the best we can do righ’ now is go home and pray as a family in thanksgivin’ fer her gift to Fergus an’ fer her healin’, aye?”

Brian held his second son at arm’s length and smiled at him and pulled him into a warm embrace. Jamie sighed and released his tension from the last hour, and the Frasers made their way home.

The ambulance arrived at the emergency bay and the EMTs brought Claire inside swiftly. Thirty seconds after that, the ambulance with the drunken driver pulled up. They were wheeled into separate trauma treatment rooms. The drunk, John Entwhistle, had suffered only a small, superficial skull fracture that would heal on its own. He was otherwise uninjured and the police made sure to handcuff him to his hospital bed. When he woke, he was placed under arrest for felony drunk driving.

As soon as Claire was wheeled into the room, her colleagues burst into action. Her clothes were cut off and she was put on an IV drip with saline and painkillers. The orthopedic surgeon on duty, Frank Randall, was paged over the loudspeaker and he also got a text telling him who was on the table. He blinked in surprise, hoping to God that he’d not just read that his colleague was on the table. He swore, took off at a run for the emergency room and was joined by Joe and Geilis. Joe and Geilis knew not to try and treat Claire – as her best friends, they both knew they couldn’t maintain an emotional distance. Frank and Claire weren’t close friends, but they were friendly with one another and had gone out for drinks with the rest of their classmates. They respected each other greatly, often studying in the same group. 

Claire was stabilized and wheeled into an operating room. Joe called Lamb and Firouz, giving them a short synopsis of the incident. 

When the surgical team heard Frank gruffly swearing, they knew it was very bad. Franklin Wolverton Randall was known for his cool-headed decisiveness and only severe injury would elicit such a response. 

“Bugger! Does anyone know what the hell happened? Her leg looks like an elephant stepped on her!” 

Fiona Glenn, his favorite surgical nurse, spoke up, “Aye, Doctor Randall. The EMTs said that Claire ran into the street after a little boy who was in the path of a drunk driver. She was able to hand the uninjured boy off to his grandda but couldna get out of the car’s way fast enough. He hit her, crushed her pelvis and the car came to a stop on her lower leg.”

“Goddamn drunk driver! Jesus! Was he hurt at all?” Frank swallowed an enormous lump in his throat and Fiona saw the barest mist of tears come to his eyes. 

Fiona took a deep breath, “No, Doctor. He only suffered a superficial crack in his skull. Evidently the boy’s father pulled him out of the car and threw him several feet onto the road. He then got the car off Claire’s leg.” 

“Good man. He saved her leg.” 

Plates, screws and pins found their way into Claire’s prone body. Frank cleared his throat loudly and continued methodically repairing her leg and pelvis, trying to preserve as much native bone as possible until, five hours later, Frank closed the last wound. 

Joe, Geilis, Lamb and Firouz all jumped to their feet when they saw Frank heading toward them, walking slowly, pulling off his cap as he advanced toward them. Geilis introduced Claire’s uncles to Frank.

“Mr. Moriston, Mr. Al-Shemani, it’s good to meet you.” Frank shook the men’s hands and acknowledged Geilis and Joe. “Claire is very well-respected among her colleagues and we did our level best to help her out. I can’t say how sorry I am that this happened to her.” 

Randall cleared his throat, _God, I hate this part,_ he thought to himself _. She’s not going to get away unscathed from this. She’ll have scars and possibly a permanent limp._

“We had to repair a lot of damage to her pelvic region. Randall took a fortifying breath, “Her pelvis and leg were crushed. She will be able to walk again, but only with intensive physical therapy. First, though, she’ll have to rest for quite a while and cannot put any weight on her injuries. We may have to get her a wheelchair for a few weeks until her pelvis is stable. We have specialists that can assist you with getting her settled in. She’ll need to have someone to assist her with everyday things until she can move around by herself.” 

Lamb spoke up, “We all live together in a one-story cottage, Doctor Randall. My husband and I are retired, Doctor, so we can take care of Claire.”

Frank nodded, pleased for Claire. _She’s damn lucky,_ he mused. _So many people lived alone and had nobody to care for them_. He continued, “Unfortunately, one of her ovaries was damaged and we couldn’t save it. We had to remove it.”

Lamb paled, “What will that mean for her in terms of childbearing, Dr. Randall?” Firouz gently took Lamb’s hand in his.

“Well, she will probably have to opt for a cesarian section. Hopefully, her remaining ovary will be able to produce enough eggs, but that’s something she may want to discuss with a fertility specialist when the time comes.” 

Geilis spoke up, “When can Mr. Moriston and Mr. Al-Shemani see her, Dr. Randall?”

“She’s in recovery right now, so about an hour. She has an epidural to help with the pain and strong painkillers as well. A case manager will be by shortly to tell you which room she’s going to be in.”

“Alright, gentlemen and Doctors Duncan and Abernathy, I’m going to go check on Claire again and a case manager will be by shortly to speak with you. Does anyone have any questions?”

Lamb and Firouz stepped up to Randall, “Thank you, Dr. Randall, for everything you and your team did for Claire. We know you did your very best. Claire is so happy here and she was ecstatic to get the surgeon’s job. She’s the only blood-family I have left, and I know how lucky she was to have you work on her,” Lamb’s lower lip trembled and he shook Randall’s hand firmly and when Lamb turned around, he was embraced by Joe and Geilis. Firouz said his thank-yous to Randall and joined the group hug.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wears short-shorts? This chapter wears short-shorts! Yep, it's a streaker, this chapter! -  
> 

Jamie arrived at the hospital at 9 a.m. and prayed he could find the mystery woman. A friendly woman directed him to the bank of elevators and the correct floor. 

He got into the elevator and heard a voice calling out to him, “Please hold the elevator!” Jamie pushed back the door and waited for the voice’s owner, a slightly rumpled man with a cloud of curly hair on his head and kind brown eyes that weren’t just brown; they were a beautiful mix of brown and flecks of gold. They reminded Jamie of well-aged whisky. Jamie stared at the man’s hair. 

“Thanks, I appreciate you waiting, young man.” The man asked Jamie to press the button for the 10th floor. Jamie stared at the man’s hair, _Why did it look so familiar? He_ racked his brain and it hit him _– _the woman who’d saved Fergus had the exact same hair!__

The man smiled and it lit up his entire face, “Say, that’s a lovely orchid! Did you know many orchids are parasites? They grow off of trees. You don’t see that species this far north very often. You must be visiting someone very special.”

Jamie swallowed audibly. He bet that if he’d seen the woman’s eyes they would look like this man’s, too. 

Jamie cleared his throat nervously and asked timidly, “Sir, you wouldn’a happen to be visiting a lass who saved a boy from being hit by a car yesterday, would ye?” 

The man’s mouth dropped open, “Yes, I am. My niece got a little boy out of the way of a drunk driver. How did you know? It hasn’t been in the news!” 

Jamie wiped a hand over his sweating brow and forced out hoarsely, “He’s my son. Your niece saved ma son, Fergus, and I’m here ta try ta give her my thanks, if she’ll accept them.” Jamie felt a little faint and gripped the handrail with white knuckles.

“Holy God, what a coincidence? Hey, there now, don’t go and pass out on me, lad! Here,” and the man held the door for Jamie. “Go sit on that bench right there, aye?”

Jamie nodded and the man said, “Good lad. I’m going to get ye a cup o’ water. Don’t move!”

Jamie nodded again and put his head between his legs, trying to calm down. 

The older man returned in a jiffy and helped Jamie sit upright, “There we are, lad. Drink this slowly in small sips.” The man spoke soothingly, “Aye, tha’s right mo charaid. Slow an’ easy does it, now.” He handed Jamie a tissue and Jamie gratefully mopped his brow. When Jamie had calmed somewhat, the man introduced himself, “My name is Lambert Moriston. I can go and ask my niece if she’d like to talk to you for a minute, alright? I’m pretty sure she’s still in her room; I just called her before I left my place.”

Jamie smiled and extended his hand, “Thank ye, Mr. Moriston. My name is James Fraser. Please, call me Jamie. Everyone does. Only my Mam uses James and adds all my secondary names, and that’s if I’m in trouble!” 

Mr. Moriston smiled, “And everyone calls me Lamb. I know if my niece uses my whole name that I’m in the doghouse, so I’d prefer it if you wouldn’t use my whole name, either!”

Jamie laughed at that and Lamb laughed right along with him.

“Alright. Stay here and I’ll go talk to my niece. I’ll be right back.”

“Aye, Lamb, thank ye.” 

Jamie was nervous. What if she didn’t want to see him? He would understand completely if she were angry and not interested in speaking with him, but he prayed it wouldn’t be the case. 

Lamb came back around the corner and motioned for Jamie to follow him, “Her name is Claire Beauchamp, Jamie. She’s agreed to see you, but I will request that you make it a short visit because she gets tired easily; I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, aye, Lamb, I do. I promise I won’t tarry long.” 

The two men rounded another corner and Lamb stopped in front of room 503. 

“Claire, darling? It’s Lamb, and I’ve brought a visitor.”

Jamie took a deep breath and stepped into the room behind Lamb.

“Oh! Huntleya Lucida (<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huntleya_lucida>)!” A sweet voice shouted, startling the redhead carrying it. “I can’t believe it! I haven’t seen one outside Brazil in a donkey’s age! Lamb, did you see?”

“Yes, darling girl, I did see.” Lamb smiled to himself. Of course, he was used to her exuberance, but it could rather be a shock for the uninitiated.

“Remember our last trip to Brazil when we saw a tree carpeted in them?” Claire practically squealed at the memory, and Jamie was pretty sure he’d unintentionally hit the jackpot; she was almost vibrating with excitement. He carefully placed the present on the moving table and saw her face for the second time. Cuts and bruises interrupted her ivory skin but did nothing to dim the sparkle in her breathtaking eyes, carbon copies of Lamb’s. She had a petite Cupid’s bow mouth and a perky nose. Her hair. God, Jamie would remember today as the day he really got to see her hair. Wonderful and wild, he wanted to sink his fingers into her curls and make her purr. 

“Ah, good day te ye, Miss Beauchamp, my name is Jamie Fraser. Ye saved my son Fergus yesterday.” Unbidden, hot tears rolled down his beautiful cheeks, clouding the most mesmerizing blue eyes Claire had ever seen. Pale, freckled skin stretched taut over high cheekbones. The cleft in his chin made Claire want to swim in it. His beautiful red curls made her want to sink her fingers into his scalp and make him rumble in delight. Right now, though, she was concerned about his tears. 

“Mr. Fraser, please sit. And please, call me Claire.”

He heard a beguiling southern accent he hadn’t noticed before. It sounded like it had been forged by the sun and burnished with wild honey. 

“Claire, thank ye. Ye must call me Jamie as well, aye?” Jamie croaked. 

She handed him some tissues and took his hand carefully. It was so big she had to hold it in both of hers. She hoped the contact would help soothe him somewhat. She and Lamb simply let the big man cry, patiently waiting for him to come back to them. Jamie’s sobs subsided and he excused himself to the restroom to splash some cold water on his face. 

He sat down again and took Claire’s tiny hand in his, “Lass, I dinna know how ta thank ye fer what ye did yesterday. I tried ta get ta Fergus, but there were too many pedestrians in my way. Thank ye for bein’ there for him when I couldn’a. He would like to come and say hello and thank ye as well, if ye allow it.” Jamie peered up at her from burnished golden-red lashes. 

She squeezed his hand, “Sure, he can come see me.”

A smile that would overshadow the sun broke out on Jamie’s face, “Thank ye, Claire, truly.” He cleared his throat. “Claire,” he began carefully, “Ye dinna know Fergus. What made ye risk yerself ta save him? Can ye tell me? Are ye in very much pain?”

Claire shut her eyes for a second and collected her thoughts. 

“I don’t remember making a conscious decision to help him. I got worried when he called out and the next thing I knew, I heard “Save the baby!” in my head. I don’t actually remember anything after that. I woke up here and Lamb was by my side. And I’m sedated from the waist down, so no pain. Please don’t worry about that,” she said kindly.

Jamie blanched, “Save the baby?” he wrinkled his forehead in thought, “Tha’s interestin’, as that’s how I think o’ my son, as a baby, even though the adoption process was started when he wasn’t really a baby anymore.” 

“Oh! Do you and Mrs. Fraser have more children?”

“Och, nay, l’m not married – never have been. Haven’t found the right lass yet. But I wanted to be a Da, so I jumped at the chance ta foster Fergus and then we became foster fails tagether!” Jamie grinned and Claire and Lamb laughed.

“Well, I can tell ye exactly what happened, if ye’d like ta hear it, lass.”

Claire smiled and said, “Sure, go ahead.”

“Fergus called out ta my parents an’ started runnin’ across the street and the drunk driver squealed around the corner. Ye turned yer head and took off after Fergus. I dinna think I’ve ever seen anyone so small run so fast. Ye were like a blur with wild curls. Ye reached Fergus and grabbed him. Then ye tucked yerself over him and rolled enough ta let my Da grab him from ye.” Here, Jamie’s eyes filled with tears again and he fisted his hands in his lap. “The damn car kept comin’ and I nearly reached ye, but then the car’s direction shifted slightly an’ I – I –“

Tears ran unhindered down his pale cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Claire,” he sniffled quietly and sobbed in an anguished voice, “I couldn’t get to ye fast enough. The car knocked me down, and ye couldn’a get out of the way fast enough. The car hit you on your pelvis, rolled you over onto your back and the car came to a stop on yer leg. He looked at her through tears and continued gruffly, "I finally reached ye and I guess I pulled the driver out of the car and threw him some distance because his skull was cracked from hittin’ the pavement. I dinna remember doin’ that. I got the car off yer leg and stayed with ye until the ambulance came.”

“I have broken bits of a memory of someone whispering to me in the Gàidhlig and stroking my hair. Was that you, Jamie?”

She looked him dead in the eye and Jamie blushed, “Aye, tha’ was me. I was speakin’ the Gàidhlig to ye. It seems to relax some people, as will stroking someone’s hair.” Jamie blushed in embarrassment, “I apologize for bein’ so forward, Claire. I didn’a know what else ta do.”

Claire put her hand on his arm, “Don’t worry, Jamie, I just wanted to know what went on. Thanks for being so honest with me.” 

“An’ I didn’a come yesterday as I figured ye would need time ta settle an’ wouldn’a be ready fer visitors. It wasn’a because I didn’a care, Claire.” He fixed beseeching eyes on her, “I still dinna understand how ye did it, Claire, but I’mma grateful to ye.”

Claire smiled and said, “Jamie, if you’d seen what I saw and the child involved wasn’t yours, what would you have done?”

Jamie thought for a second, “Why, I’d have done the same as ye, Claire. No question. It’s a child, after all.”

She smiled gently at him, “Right. See? No big mystery. It was just a case of being in the right time at the right place, I think.”

Jamie stood and said, “Well, I think I’ve been here long enough takin’ up yer time. May I return with Fergus?”

Claire smiled, “Yes, I’d like that, Jamie.”

Jamie looked deeply into her eyes, stunned by their depth and incredible beauty. He gently held her hand and kissed her knuckles, “Until then, my lady.”

Claire blushed and giggled and Jamie smiled and turned to go, “Hang on Jamie, let me walk you out, alright?” Lamb said.

“Aye, Lamb, thank ye kindly.”

Lamb walked with Jamie to the elevator. “I’m glad you came, Jamie. A lot of people would not have at all. They would simply take her action for granted. Thank you for not doing that.”

“Aye, well, I’ll always be grateful to her, Lamb.”

Lamb smiled, “Maybe we’ll cross paths again, young man.” He held up a hand and bade Jamie goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: As I always do, I am pulling medical stuff out of the, um, ether. Yeah, that’s where I’m pulling it from. Apologies to anyone affected by the following injuries and our medical professionals out there!_

Soon after Jamie left, the head of the OB/GYN department, Helen Symonds, walked into her room with Dr. Randall, “Good morning, Claire, how are you feeling?”

“Well, I guess I’m okay, although I’m itching to get out of bed,” She smirked and the other doctors smiled back. Dr. Randall spoke first, “Okay, so here’s what’s going on. Your pelvis is crushed and unfortunately, the ball of your left hip joint and its socket both required replacement, Claire. Your pelvis was repaired with plates and pins and glue. We realize you can’t feel them. We’ve sedated from the waist down so we could talk to you first.” Claire saw Symonds take a deep breath and she cringed inwardly. _That couldn’t be good_ , she thought. “Unfortunately, one of your ovaries couldn’t be saved, and it had to be removed. If you want to have kids, you may have to have a C-section or speak to a fertility specialist.”

Claire just stared at her, “My ovary? And all the other damage? All from a fucking drunk driver?” Tears welled up in her eyes, “I just started here as a surgeon, Dr. Symonds. This means that I’ll probably lose at least three months, right, if I factor in physical therapy time?”

Frank spoke up, “Listen, Claire, I’m not going to sprinkle fairy dust all over this and tell you it’ll be okay. I know you know better.” 

She looked at him determinedly and said, “Give it to me straight, Frank. What am I looking at in terms of realistic recovery and fallout from this shit-storm?”

Frank grinned when she cussed – she did it better than anyone else he knew.

“Alright, Tex,” she smiled when he used his silly nickname for her – Frank knew she’d never even been to Texas. “You’re looking at three to six of physical therapy. You may also be left with a limp. That depends on how well your pelvis and hip heal and how hard you work at PT. I know your personal motto is ‘By Hook Or By Crook’, so I have no doubt you’ll do whatever you can, including hoodwinking the Devil, to ensure your best outcome. I, will, of course, do whatever I can to help you, Claire. Also, I know the personnel department will help you with everything. This isn’t a work-related accident, but they’ll know how to handle the sick leave and everything else.” He smiled kindly at the young woman and stepped back. He knew difficult news was easier for people to swallow when his outer demeanor was very calm and he spoke in a soothing voice, “I realize this is a lot to take in and I wish we had better news for you. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, Frank, thanks, Dr. Symonds, for tellin’ it how it is. It isn’t y’all’s fault.” She smiled bravely, but Symonds and Randall could see her face crumpling. Frank pulled up a chair and took Claire’s tiny hand in his. Claire sniffed and her mouth quivered. Dr. Symonds excused herself quietly and paged Geilis and Joe to the room. 

A couple of tears ran down Claire’s face and she angrily swiped them away. _I hate crying in front of others, goddammit! Why, Why WHY did this have to happen like this?_ She thought. _Damn Fergus!_ She started crying in earnest and soon, there were too many tears to simply swipe away. “ _I know he’s just a little boy, but damn his impetuousness and damn that fucking drunk!_ ”

Dr. Symonds cleared her throat a bit and handed Claire a couple of tissues, “I paged Doctors Duncan and Abernathy. Would you like me to arrange for a counselor to come talk with you, Claire?”

Claire blew her nose and said, “No, thank you. I just want Geil and Joe and then my uncle. I appreciate that you were straight with me, doctors, and thank you for paging Duncan and Abernathy. Thank you for all of your time this morning. When you leave, would you please close the door?” When the surgeons were gone, Claire laid her head back on her pillow and her heartbreak rolled down her cheeks in a steady stream.

About fifteen minutes later, Geilis and Joe walked in and Claire held her arms open wide for her two best friends, not bothering to pretend to be brave in front of them. They came to her and the three of them sat together and released their sorrow and fear surrounded by the love they had for one another. When they’d all calmed somewhat, Joe got Claire a warm washcloth and helped her freshen up a bit since she couldn’t get out of bed yet. Geil ran to “Glenna’s Goodies,” the bakery-cafe across the street from the hospital, and got all of them an assortment of muffins, scones and mini croissants with coffees. Joe and Geil made sure to make Claire laugh with their latest yarns about disastrous dates, burned dinners and the dumb shit their patients did. Claire laughed so hard that she dropped her croissant, slathered with butter and cafe-made preserves, right onto her blanket, jam-side down (of course!), which only sent the friends into further spirals of laughter. They all reminisced about the funny situations they’d gotten into, including some near-misses with unwanted advances from others, picnics ruined by rain and Joe’s envy that he couldn’t flirt his way out of traffic citations like “his girls” could. Joe and Geil had to get back to work after a bit and both hugged and kissed Claire and promised they’d be back, “Like the Terminator!” Geilis crowed. Claire and Joe rolled their eyes and laughed. 

Lunch came and Claire was glad she’d had some non-hospital food that morning. 

Just as Claire was going to pick up her phone to call Lamb, he walked in with venti mocha lattes for both of them and a box of chocolate-covered HobNobs encased in a bag over his wrist. 

“Good mo-“ he started, but stopped when he saw her tear-stained face, “Darling, what’s happened, mo chridhe?”

Claire started crying afresh at his tender tone, “Oh Lamb,” she wailed, “There’s so much damage!” 

“Claire, I’m so sorry to hear that, darling.” Lamb pulled up a chair and hugged Claire gently. She fisted her hands in his shirt and cried until she couldn’t cry anymore. By that point, Lamb’s shirt had been soaked and he was getting rather cold, but he never stopped rubbing her back in gentle circles, “That’s it, a leannan, let it out.” Niece and uncle stayed like that for at least 20 minutes until Claire felt like she could breathe again. Lamb got her a warm washcloth and Claire wiped her face, feeling instantly refreshed and a bit like The Good Old Claire.

Claire straightened up as well as she could, “Okay, Lamb, I’m crying for war against this thing!”

“Aye, mo nighean treun (my brave girl), may I guard your right?”

“Tha mi ag iarraidh gun dèan thu sin (I demand that you do)! We’re going to beat this together!”

“Aye, my lady, that we are!” Lamb grinned broadly.

They clasped hands, looked into each other’s eyes and recited loudly and proudly, “Christus gladio in conspectu meo,” The Moriston battle cry (Christ before my sword – A/N: I pulled this out of you-know-where. If you’re a Moriston, or if this is your actual family motto, my humblest of apologies. And please, scream at me so I can change it in the story...). She winked at Lamb and said, “Gimme some sugar!”

Lamb laughed, kissed her cheek and handed her the booty, “Ahhh, come to Mama, my little beautifuls! Thank you, Uncle.” She smiled at him and he winked back at her. They sat together and discussed some of the things that would have to happen at home so Claire could be mobile until she was out of a wheelchair. 

She offered to help pay for any widening of doorways or changes with her inheritance from her parents, but Lamb brushed her worries away, “Pish-posh, Habibi Albata!“ he said, using the Arabic nickname Firouz had given her when he first met her at a dig – “Darling Duckling” for her penchant of following him and Lamb around a dig site like a duckling does its mother. 

He booped her nose, “Firouz and I have had these changes on the back burner for years. Now’s a good chance to get them done.”

They sat contentedly together and the afternoon ticked away. 

Around three o’clock, there was a shy knock on the door and Fergus Fraser’s curly brown hair poked into the room.

“Hello, Madame Beauchamp?” he said quietly, using the French pronounciation. 

“Aye, Fergus, come in,” Claire said quietly, sensing his nervousness. 

He gulped and walked carefully toward her, a posy of beautiful wildflowers in his hand. 

Lamb, could you give us a minute, please?” Claire asked. 

Lamb nodded and slipped out of the room. Jamie was waiting out of sight near the door. “Hello, Jamie, how are ye today?” Lamb spoke quietly so he wouldn’t disturb Fergus and Claire.

“I’m braw, Lamb, thank ye. Grateful to Claire and ye that ye’re allowing Fergus ta speak to her. He’s aware of how his actions affected her and he is truly sorry, Lamb. He came because he wanted to, not because I made him.”

“I ken it, Jamie, I ken it. He’s a little boy and the fact that he’s here shows the depth of his character and strength. Claire knows he didn’t do anything maliciously.” Lamb placed a warm hand on Jamie’s shoulder, “What say we nip down to Glenna’s and get everyone a snack? Claire would love more coffee. She drinks coffee like it’s goin’ out o’ style.”

“That’s a grand idea, Lamb. My treat, please, aye?” Jamie asked, smiling winningly. 

Lamb’s eyes narrowed teasingly but then he chuckled, seeing vestiges of Jamie as a little boy, looking like he was trying to wheedle another cookie out of his mother before bedtime, “Well, I’ll allow it, _this time!”_

The younger man grinned and pumped his fist in victory, which made Lamb laugh out loud. Jamie paid for one hot chocolate, three coffees, four _pain au chocolat_ and four orange-cranberry muffins, still warm from the oven. Glenna tucked some individual butter servings into the bag along with four knives, and the men were on their way.

Fergus stopped right before the bed and held the flowers out to Claire with a trembling hand, “Je les ai choisis pour vous sur une colline près de chez nous, Madame Beauchamp (I picked these for you from a hill near our home, Miss Beauchamp).”

She took them from him and laid them on the mobile table over her bed, “Oh, Fergus, ils sont beaux. Merci beaucoup (Oh, Fergus, they’re beautiful. Thank you).”

Fergus swallowed the rock in his throat and bravely looked into Claire’s eyes, “I am sorry for my actions because you were hurt, Madame. I did not think,” as tears rolled down his face.

Claire looked at the little boy and could feel fear, sincerity and sadness rolling off his body. She held out her arms and Fergus wrapped his arms around her carefully. She embraced him back and Fergus relaxed into her. Gradually, his silent tears blossomed into sobs of regret. Claire simply held him gently and whispered calming words in French to him, all the while rubbing his back soothingly. After a few minutes, the boy’s sobs lessened and he let go of Claire carefully. She handed him a tissue and he blew his nose, making sure to throw the tissue in the garbage and wash his hands, like Da taught him. He was about to sit down when Jamie and Lamb returned.

Claire’s eyes lit up at the coffee Jamie brought her and she moaned in appreciation at its rich taste,

“Mmmmh, oh, that’s good, thank you so much, Jamie! And the muffin is still warm! It smells delicious and, oh, Fergus, look, _pain au chocolat_ , my favorite!”

Fergus smirked, “Oui, Madame, Da picks the best pastries, _non_?”

Jamie’s wame coiled in pleasure as the tiny 5’4” (1.62 m) woman moaned. _Jesus, to hear her make that sound again – what else could he do for her to elicit that music again? Damn..._

Fergus finished his pastries and glanced at Jamie, who nodded his head once. 

The boy turned to face Claire, “Madame, I spoke to Da last night. I know I can’t make your - ” Fergus cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “I - I can’t make your injuries go away, but I would like to do something to assist you at home because my actions landed you here.”

Claire’s mouth dropped open, “Um, well, Fergus, thank you. You don’t owe me anything. I would have done the same thing for anyone.” 

_Holy butternuts_ , she thought, _this kid is the real deal_.

Fergus’ eyes threatened to fill with tears again and he whispered, “Oui. But you did it _for me_ and I would like to say ‘thank you’ somehow.”

Claire looked at Lamb, “How would you feel about Fergus coming to help me at home for awhile, Lamb?"

Lamb considered for a moment, “Well, a nighean, that’s really up to you. I can think of some things Fergus may be able to assist you with since you’re going to be laid up for a while. I’m okay with it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Claire scrutinized the boy’s father. _Damn, he is one fine specimen_ , she thought, drifting off for a few seconds thinking about what it’d be like to kiss the 6’4” (1.93m) Highlander’s generous lips. _God, to kiss and lick his throat and his – OH GOD, SOMEONE JUST SAID SOMETHING!_ Claire blushed a shade of red that made her cheeks pink up delicately and Jamie licked his lips without realizing it. Claire chastised herself for being so inappropriate, “Pardon me?”

Fergus was studying her, head tilted slightly to the side, “Madame, I was just saying that I can do dishes, sweep and mop and vacuum, and I do my own laundry, too,” he announced proudly. “I help Granny in the kitchen and in her garden with the weeding, too. I have chores at home and Da taught me how to do all those things,” Fergus glanced at Jamie for approval and Jamie smiled encouragingly at his son, “I can come over after school to help you and on the weekends, too.”

“Well, how about I get settled at home first and I’ll call your Da to arrange when you can start, alright?”

“Yes, Madame, thank you so much!” Fergus smiled brightly and Jamie gave him a thumbs-up.

“Alright.” She smiled at Fergus and his father and sucked in a surprised breath when Jamie winked at her.

She composed herself and inwardly shook her head to focus again, “Now that that’s settled, Lamb, we need to start researching companies to renovate the house to accomodate a wheelchair. You have a couple of ideas, right? You said you’d bring it up to your boys at your weekly poker match. Did you find anything out?”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose, “Ye want ta retrofit the cottage to accomodate a wheelchair? Is that right?”

“Aye, mo charaid, ‘tis,” affirmed Lamb, “Why? Do ye hae someun in mind, then?”

Jamie grinned, “Aye! Me! I own Fraser’s Retrofitting, and we specialize in ‘age-in-place’ or ‘handicap-accessibile’ remodels. I’ll do it at no charge. It’s the least I can do fer ye, Claire.”

Claire’s and Lamb’s mouths dropped open in tandem, eliciting giggles from the Frasers, “Are you serious, Fraser?” Claire asked, ever the skeptic. 

Jamie smiled at her use of his last name, “Aye, Beauchamp, like a heart attack,” and he quirked a bushy eyebrow and smirked. Claire covered her mouth and giggled, blushing crimson again. “My company has done over a thousand remodels in the last five years. As healthcare improves and people are livin’ longer, ‘aging-in-place’ is the preferred choice for many. I can bring some design books over for the three of you to look at as well as my laptop so I can show you some of my finished projects. I also have references available, if ye like.”

“Oh, but Jamie, I couldn’t possibly let you do it for nothing; that’s too much,” Claire protested.

Lamb agreed, “Yes, Jamie, entirely free, I’m not comfortable wi’ that, either. I agree with ma niece, friend.” 

Jamie sighed internally. _She and he are both stubborn – but three can play that game!_ He smiled his best ‘I’m-the-boss-smile’ and said, “I’m sorry, but that’s the end of it. It’ll be no charge, an’ that is final, both of ye!”

Claire’s and Lamb’s eyes narrowed in concert and their faces registered consternation and annoyance, “Now, wait a minute there, Fraser, you don’t get to decide things wholesale here!” Claire jibed, “I’m the injured party and Lamb and I object, right, Lamb?”

“Aye, Jamie, we both do. And be warned, nobody does stubborn and revenge like an offended Moriston,” Lamb intoned solemnly, index finger raised for emphasis.

Claire piped up, “Wait! I have it! Jamie, come here, please.” Puzzled, he did as she asked, nonetheless. 

“How can I help ye?” He stopped a few inches in front of Claire, just out of reach, “For goodness’ sake, come closer, Fraser. I won’t bite until I know you better!” She grinned and he rumbled out a laugh, making Claire’s stomach somersault in pleasure. He sidled up to her and peered suspiciously at her. He sucked in a breath as she reached out two fingers and poked gently but firmly at his belly and pinched his side gently. He felt like he’d been shocked, and the feeling went right into his baws. Claire, too, was surprised at the heat that streaked into her lady parts, “A-ha! I knew it! You’re a bachelor, aren’t you?”

“Aye, I am. How would you know that, my lady?” His eyes got comically big and he feigned being afraid of her, ”Are ye a seer, then? A witch? Do ye wear stripes and plaids in the same outfit, what?”

She laughed and said, “Naw, I just made an educated guess, Sugar,” she drawled and Jamie blushed furiously, _God, what a sexy voice_. “You’re too skinny by half and need some home cooking! I’ll cook dinner for you and Junior, how’s about that, Sasquatch?” 

“I dinna know anythin’ about ye, Claire. Do ye mind if I ask where ye’re from? I can’t place yer lovely accent,” Jamie smiled invitingly.

“I’m from Northern Alabama, near Huntsville. Mama, or Mam, was Lamb’s sister and was born and raised in Scotland but she met my Da when she was an exchange student in Huntsville. They fell in love and eventually married, and here I am, Sir.” Claire looked directly into the redhead’s eyes and they sparkled with challenge and mischief as she pretended to curtsy to Jamie, inclining her head gracefully. 

Jamie’s eyes darkened in want and he snorted with laughter to cover it up, “Oh, I ken almost nothin’ about Alabama, but I had a friend who spent time in East Tennessee and regaled me with stories of barbecued pork, fried chicken, okra, dumplings, grits and something called banana pudding?” 

“Banana pudding is one of my specialties! As soon as I get home and the renovation starts, we’ll decide on a day and time to have dinner, alright?” 

“Aye, Claire, thank ye. That would suit us just fine, won’t it, son?”

“Yes, Da, I love fried chicken!” crowed Fergus excitedly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you all had a good weekend! Here's a really short chapter but it's a small footbridge to the next phase of the story. Please let me know what you think! xx Distracted

Jamie brought by the books and his computer two days later. He greeted everyone as he came in, pulling a small suitcase behind him, “Hello, everyone! I have my books in my case here. What I’d like to have you do is to put Post-Its,” and he raised the pads in the air so everyone could see them, “on every idea you think might suit you and the house. It doesn’t matter how many stickers you put in the books – the more the merrier. If you give me quite a few ideas to work with, I can come up with suitable renovations more efficiently. Now,” he said, raising a flirty eyebrow at Claire, “it doesna mean ye’ll get _everythin_ ’ ye choose,” which elicited a challenging eyebrow raise from her and a sultry pout that stunned him for a couple of seconds, until he gulped and continued, “However, we’ll try to accommodate as many wishes as possible.” 

Firouz, Fergus and Lamb excused themselves to get everyone cold drinks. Jamie was about to leave when he heard, “Oh, Jamie?” in her soft, beguiling lilt. He crossed himself mentally and turned around, “Aye, Claire?”

She held out her hand to him and he took it gently, “Can I help ye, lass?” 

“Yes you can. I just wanted to let you know that I,” and she looked down, paused for a beat and looked up at him through long, thick lashes that perfectly complimented her eyes. Jamie was drowning in them and didn’t give a toss. They blazed with sass, challenge and _God Almighty_ , brazen want that excited his cock and made his heart pound like a wee rabbit’s, “I get what I want, always.” She smirked inwardly and saw his eyes sparkle dangerously, his pupils nearly black with confined desire.

“Is that so, Wee’un?” He blinked slowly, eyes heavy with desire. “And I,” He leaned forward slowly, and Claire could smell a hint of cologne, coffee and very male arousal. His curls tickled her cheek as he stopped right next to her ear and rumbled, “always go after what _I_ want, and I want ye, mo nighean donn, very much.” Claire sucked in a breath as she felt herself get wet _just from the man’s voice, goddamn_. Jamie backed away just a bit, cupped her cheeks in both of his huge, warm hands and kissed her oh-so gently and thoroughly. He groaned deep in his chest when their lips met and stroked his thumbs over her face. Claire whimpered in pleasure as the kiss went on and on. Jamie’s lips were warm and soft and seemed to know exactly what to do to turn her the fuck inside out. Her head spun and she felt like she was floating, and she never wanted to come back to Earth.

Jamie broke the kiss finally as he heard everyone returning. He winked at Claire, who gave him a sultry look in return. Jamie left the computer with the family as well as a tall stack of Post-Its and took Fergus to play at a park near the hospital. Lamb, Firouz and Claire marveled at the “before” and “after” photos and they all enjoyed looking at the PDF blueprints. Eventually, they decided on a very gently sloping ramp to the front door and one leading from the back door to the garden. She would ask for wider doorways in the house and was happy that it had been refurbished with an open floorplan about 15 years earlier. Claire decided on a very minor remodel in her bathroom – Jamie could take out the cabinet under her sink, lower it and she could wheel the chair directly to the sink so she wouldn’t have to twist uncomfortably. She also decided upon sturdy handrails for the bath and a lift. She could sit on the lift’s seat and maneuver herself from the bath right to the chair. The family went hog wild and bedazzled his books with Post-Its. He returned two hours later with coffee and treats for everyone. By the time Jamie appeared, he simply belly-laughed about all of their ideas. 

“So, ye have a few ideas, eh,” he said, still chuckling – did he even have any leftover Post-Its? “It looks like ye’re tryin’ to flag down the mothership!”

Claire grinned, “Um, well, it’s been a minute and we got a little carried away.”

Lamb and Firouz chuckled and Firouz said, “Well, Jamie, you did leave us unsupervised, you know, so this is really all your fault!” Jamie snorted and Fergus giggled,

“Aye, Da, Mr. Al-Shemani is right! Ye did!”

“Och, hush, ye gomerel, before I make ye eat fish eyes and glue fer yer supper and sing fer it, besides!” Jamie shot back, raising his eyebrows at his son. 

Fergus rolled his eyes and snorted in disdain, “Hmmph!”

Claire laughed, remembering times when Mam would go out with friends and leave Henry with Claire. “Fish eyes and glue” was his favorite answer to her persistent question,

“Daaaaaaaa, what’s for breakfast/lunch/dinner? I’m huuuungry!”

Jamie dragged a chair over to the bed and asked for the books. He started taking notes on his phone about which changes had been chosen,

“Alright. I’m glad ye took the time to show me a broad spectrum of yer ideas. We can do all these things fer ye, Claire. With the family’s permission, I’d like to get my crew over to take measurements and take photographs of the interior and exterior of the house. When would ye gentlemen be available?”

Lamb spoke up, “I know Firouz has his weekly chess match tomorrow, but I’m going to be at home working on editing a colleague’s new draft, so I’ll be home all day. Just give me a call when ye know ye’re headin’ ower, aye?”

“Aye, I’ll do that. I’ll call my assistant, Mary, and let her know about this job. We just finished a job and don’t have one starting for another few weeks, so this is perfect timing.” Jamie smiled and turned towards Claire, “So, Mistress Beauchamp, I’ll try to stop in tomorra if it’s right with yer schedule, aye? We have some things ta discuss, you and I.” Jamie took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, “Until tomorra, then, Lady Claire?”

Claire face exploded in a firestorm of crimson, but she rallied, not to be outdone by this outrageous flirt. Exaggerating her drawl, she dripped out, “Oh, aye, _Master Fraser,_ you’ll be seeing me tomorrow.” She smiled like the cat who’d gotten the canary and now it was Jamie’s turn to blush. And blush he did. Claire saw the red staining his skin, from the roots of his hair to below his shirt collar, and wondered how long she’d have to behave herself until she could see how far down the blush reached...


	6. Chapter 6

Jamie brought the books and his computer to the house the next day along with his crew, consisting of his school chums Angus Brodie and Rupert MacKenzie, his godfather Murtagh Fraser, his Da and his brother-in-law, Ian Murray. The two were best friends and had been since they were in school together. Ian had been married to Jamie’s older sister, Jenny, for a few years now. Ian worked in marketing and was a crack photographer. After introductions, Lamb served everyone coffee, tea and Claire’s homemade pecan pie tarts. Jamie and Brian rumbled in tandem pleasure when the rich sweetness hit their palates. “Does your niece cook this way all the time, gentlemen?” Brian asked, while moistening his middle finger and picking up every visible crumb on his plate, something all the other men were also doing.

“Oh, those tarts are nearly an everyday occurrence she throws together when she has a minute. We almost always have some in the house. Those, or her lemon bars. She makes the crust for both.” 

Angus’ eyes got big, “Lemon bars? I love lemon bars!”

Jamie smiled and quipped, “It’s a miracle you don’t two don’t weigh a thousand kilos!” 

Lamb and Firouz laughed, “Yes, Claire is like that. Always fussing over us, ensuring we eat healthy food. When we do as she says, we get those as a reward!” The men laughed and politely took their dishes to the sink. Lamb and Firouz took everyone on a tour of the house and the grounds so they’d have a “big picture” of the entire property and the scope of the job.

“Mr. Moriston, Mr. Al-Shemani, ye have a lovely house,” Brian complimented them.

“Och, Mr. Fraser, please, do call me Lamb. It’s short for Lambert.”

Firouz looked into Brian’s weathered face and smiled, “You must call me Firouz, Mr. Fraser.”

“Aye, thank ye, then ye both must call me Brian, I insist.”

“Lamb, would ye mind showing me Claire’s rooms?”

“Her room is at the end of the hall, last two doors on the right, Jamie.”

Jamie caught Brian’s eye and shook his head almost imperceptibly, “Ah, thank ye, but I’d prefer it if one of ye’d come with me since this is a private room, Lamb. We have a strict policy against our staff being in private rooms unescorted the first day on the job. It’s more secure for all involved. If any of ye have valuables in yer private rooms, we’d ask ye ta secure them tonight before we come back in the mornin’, aye? The company is bonded and insured but we encourage our clients to safeguard their items while we’re workin’ here.”

“Ok, Jamie, I’ll put our things in the safe tonight. Come on, I’ll show you Claire’s suite.”

Lamb led Brian and Jamie down the corridor, and Jamie wondered what would wait for him there. Would the furnishings be antique, mid-century modern, contemporary? Was she a neatnik, a Messy Marvin?*

Lamb stepped into the bedroom and held the door open for the Frasers, “Here we are,” Jamie and Brian stepped into the room. It was a large, roomy space, filled with light from a roof window and a bay window looking out onto the back garden. Jamie stepped to the bay window and caught a glimpse of a silvery weathered wooden deck, a brick patio with bird feeders and a barbecue. A sunny part of the garden boasted a small, raised, herb and vegetable garden, a tidy lawn and flower beds ringing the green area. There were a couple of trees, too. An apple tree and a plum tree graced a corner of the garden. Between them sat a long gliding bench, perfect for summer-night star watching. Brian smiled to himself as he heard his son sigh quietly. _Did he even realize he’d done it? Probably not_ , Brian mused. He knew from Ellen that Jamie had really enjoyed meeting Claire and that she and her family had been nothing but welcoming and gracious to them despite her current circumstances. He drifted in his thoughts a bit to a conversation he’d had with his wife after she’d gotten off the phone with their second son,

“Brian, I think our balach ruaidh (red-haired boy) has found The One,” she said, with a gentle smile. He talks about Claire the same way I did about ye all those years ago, mo leannan.” She walked over to her husband, pinched his ass and lazily encircled his neck with her graceful arms, taking the time to kiss up Brian’s neck to his hairline,

“Och, lass,” Brian rumbled, “ye know exactly how ta stop ma big brain from workin’ and lettin’ ma little brain do the drivin’ with yer wee kisses.”

She came around to face him, “At your service, my Laird,” she murmured, looking him straight in the eye as she dipped into a deep curtsy.

Brian felt himself start to stiffen and growled in arousal, “Aye, Lady Fraser, as I am for ye,” he intoned. He held out his hand to her and she rose gracefully before him, smiling wickedly. He took Ellen in his arms and poured all his passion into his lips. She kissed him back with equal fervor and when they broke the kiss, both were somewhat dazed and panting. Brian picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and started down the long hallway to their bedroom. He lifted her gauzy summer skirt, wrenched her underwear down and slapped her ass firmly several times, pulling a squeal and giggles out of her generous mouth. Once inside their bedroom he lowered his lady carefully, placed her hands on the door and asked her to stay in that position. Brian kneeled behind her and held her hips still as he licked and kissed her bottom to soothe her reddened skin. He greedily drank in sighs uttered by the Queen of the Angels and bolted the door at her command.

Brian Fraser knew he was a lucky man. Ellen MacKenzie had been the most popular girl in school, only daughter to Hamish MacKenzie, Laird of Leoch. Brian was the son of the Laird Broch Tuarach, a much smaller and less well-off estate a few miles away. Brian was terribly nervous when he asked her out the first time. She’d whispered, “Yes, please,” and he was lost forever in her dove-gray eyes. They had a wonderful time together. They both knew by the end of the night that they were destined to be together but were too shy to admit it to one another. Her parents allowed them to date while in high school, but when he and Ellen finished college and Brian asked her father for her hand in marriage, the MacKenzie laughed in Brian’s face and threw him out of the house. They forbade Ellen to see Brian after that, announcing on her 22nd birthday a few weeks later that she was engaged to the son of a business partner of her father’s, one Malcolm Grant. Ellen had never met Grant and had absolutely no desire to, either. Heartsick, Ellen ran from the house in a panic, oblivious to her parents’ shouts and her two brothers’ vociferous protests. 

She called Brian from a pay phone at The Sleepy Goat Inn, their favorite pub, crying so hard Brian could only squeeze in, “Ellen, mo chridhe, don’t move. I’m comin’ right now!” Brian jumped into his car and broke all sorts of speed limits. 

When he was pulled over, his friend Taran MacQuarrie was at the wheel. “Oi, Fraser, where’s the fire, lad?”

Brian rolled down his window, stuck his head out and shouted, “T! ‘Tis Ellen! Her parents are tryin’ ta force her ta wed Malcolm Grant!” 

“Och, that slimy bawbag! Where is she?”

“At the Sleepy Goat! She’s in hysterics, man, I’ve got to go!”

“Aye, I’ll give ye an escort, dinna fash, mate, we’ll sort this the MacQuarrie way!” Taran flashed Brian his famous lopsided grin and the boys took off for the Sleepy Goat and Brian and Ellen’s future.

Five minutes later, they arrived. Ellen tore open the door of the phone booth and jumped straight into Brian’s eager arms, sobbing out her broken heart all over his jacket. He soothed her, “Shhh, mo nighean ruaidh,” it’s alright now. Yer man has ye, aye? I won’t let anyone hurt ye anymore.”

She just cried harder and clung tighter to him. He carried her to his car and deposited her safely into the passenger seat.

“Brian! Catch!” and a set of keys sailed through the air. They landed in Brian’s huge hand with a solid ka-thunk and Brian recognized the “Maui” keychain – he and Ellen could use Taran’s cottage on his family’s land as a bolt-hole. He knew that neither his parents nor Ellen’s knew anything about the remote bothy, situated far off the main road, nestled on the shores of a hidden swimming hole.

“Tapadh leibh, mo caraid,” called Ellen, and blew Taran a kiss.

Taran grinned and called, “Get ye gone afore Dougal and Colum show up!”

“Thanks, mate! I owe ye one!” called Brian and waved. Quick as could be, he put the car in reverse and sped down the road to their future as Mr. and Mrs. Brian and Ellen Fraser.

Not two minutes passed after Brian and Ellen took off and Taran heard Colum’s car pull up. He and Dougal jumped out of the car and called to Taran, “MacQuarrie, ye seen my sister?”

“That’s Officer MacQuarrie ta ye, MacKenzie, an’ no, I have’na seen Ellen. Why? Can’t ye keep track o’ yer own kin?”

Dougal and Colum’s faces darkened in anger, and Dougal sneered, “Ye’re lyin’, MacQuarrie. Ye know exactly where she is, an’ she isn’t answerin’ her phone. Is she with that bawbag Fraser?”

Colum put a calming hand on his hotheaded brother’s forearm, “Wheesht, Dougal!”

“No, Colum!” Dougal snapped, “Weel then, _Officer_ MacQuarrie, I must inform ye,” intoned Dougal sarcastically, “We think she was taken against her will by Brian Fraser.”

Taran’s mouth dropped open, “Against her will? What proof do ye have that she was ‘dragged off,’ as ye say? If ye can prove she was taken, I’ll be happy to arrange a meeting with a detective inspector.” Taran snorted derisively, “How soft in the heid are ye, man? Ye mean Brian Fraser, the boy she dated all through high school? Ye both canna have forgotten when she gave Rosie McTaggart that shiner for askin’ Brian out to the Spring Dance in our second year! Is this the Brian she bragged about marryin’ after college? _That_ Brian Fraser? Could ye be talkin’ about another Brian Fraser with whom I am not acquainted? Or,” and his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched, “Are ye talkin’ outta yer ass agin’ Dougal? Ye do that alot, ken, it seems to be what ye do best,” smirked MacQuarrie, satisfied.

Dougal growled dangerously and Colum laid his strong grip on his brother’s shoulder, hunched forward in anger, “Let’s go, Dougal. This mac na galla willna’ help us find our sister.”

“Oh, nay, Colum, tha’s no’ what I said. If ye can prove ta me that Ellen was taken agin’ her will, I’ll be happy ta refer ye to a detective inspector. Until that time, though, why don’ ye go home and take yer foaming-at-the-mouth cur with ye?”

Both MacKenzies turned and flipped MacQuarrie the bird in concert, got into their car and left as noisily as they could. 

“Pfft, wankers!” MacQuarrie pulled out his phone and dialed Brian, “Aye, ‘tis me.” He listened for a moment, “Aye, they were – no, no no, relax, I didn’a tell those clotheids anythin’. I’ve been married for three years, Fraser, I know when ta shut ma yap, ken?” MacQuarrie smiled, “Aye, whatever ye want. Do me a favor and chop some firewood to replace what ye use, aye?” Taran scratched his nose absentmindedly, “Aye, a bit ‘o coin fer groceries would be grand, Brian. Aye, aye, as lang as ye wan’. Nooo, not anytime soon. Right. Have a good time and ring me iff’n ye be needin’ ma help, aye?”

Ellen called her younger sisters, Jocasta and Janet. They would talk to Father Bain, the Frasers’ beloved longtime family priest.

The next call that was made was to Brian’s cousin, Murtagh Alexander FitzGibbons Fraser. He immediately agreed to stand up with Brian. 

Jocasta called back a couple of hours later. Brian and Ellen were to meet the two sisters and Father Bain at his ancient little church and be married as soon as they could get a marriage license. Bain knew a couple of judges from his Wednesday night poker game, and Judge Herbert Fordyce had lost badly last week. Bain bribed him to prepare and push through the marriage license in exchange for Bain forgiving Fordyce’s $150 loan from last Wednesday’s disaster. Brian and Ellen had their license lickety-split. 

Two days later, the group met. Jocasta and Janet had brought some things for the two of them, including a white tea-length dress of Janet’s to serve as a wedding dress. 

Murtagh brought Brian his regalia, and his gift to the newlyweds were matching comfort-fit hammered 18k-gold wedding rings he had made himself. Murtagh was a goldsmith by trade and his work was very popular. He’d figured wedding bands were practical and he knew that neither Brian nor Ellen placed great store in fancy baubles. Plus, they’d be able to save a bit of money for when the first baby came, which Murtagh guessed wouldn’t be long at all. Ellen and Brian were taken aback when he quickly shoved a larger-than-normal jewelry box in Ellen’s hand without a word. Ellen opened the box and she and Brian teared up. Ellen kissed Murtagh’s cheek gently and he blushed hotly. Brian pumped his hand in thanks. Janet gave Brian the MacKenzie badge she’d nicked from her da so he could honor his bride. He couldn’t believe he was finally marrying the other half of his heart. 

Brian Fraser had never seen Ellen looking so beautiful. The white dress highlighted her delicate skin and fiery curls perfectly, with her mother’s luminescent Scottish pearl demi-parure, inherited from her mother before her, with matching earrings and a spectacular graduated strand (nicked by Jocasta for the evening only) highlighting the graceful column of her neck. On her right shoulder, she wore the Fraser crest, engraved in sterling silver. The Fraser strawberries and motto, “Je suis prest” were clearly etched into the silver. She carried a bouquet of heather and white roses from the MacKenzie family garden. The stems were wrapped in MacKenzie and Fraser tartan ribbons.

For her part, Ellen had never seen her beloved look more handsome. His deep blue eyes and tar-black hair complimented his ruddy skin perfectly. Of course, she had seen him in his regalia before. Somehow, though, tonight was filled with special magic. He looked like a Highlander of old, wearing knee-length leather boots, his regalia and his father’s heirloom sword and dirk. Brian’s eyes clouded with tears and his breath caught in his throat. Ellen saw a trembling hand cover his mouth as he saw his Aphrodite making her way down the aisle on Murtagh’s arm. The groom did not worry about his loved ones seeing his joyful tears. The gentle candlelight danced and jumped off of the silver badge he wore and a tear wandered down her fair cheek. 

Her younger sisters, twenty-year-old Jocasta and nineteen-year-old Janet witnessed the night Ellen Margaret Patricia Elinor MacKenzie married Brian Robert Joseph Malcolm Fraser, and the three women couldn’t have been happier. The church was only lit with a few candles so that people on the outside wouldn’t know that there was a ceremony taking place. The rings fit perfectly and were heavy on the young couple’s fingers. The vows were traditional Catholic vows, except that Brian insisted that Father Bain say “You may kiss each other,” because he and Ellen were equals. He did not own her – he loved that she was her own woman and had no issues putting him in his place when he needed it. They all gathered in the church’s kitchen and ate cold roast beef sandwiches and toasted the newlyweds with good whisky. For both Frasers, it had been perfect.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken this long to post an update! I've been going slightly nuts trying to get my name changed from my ex-husband's name to my maiden name... so fun during COVID times. NOT! It's only 3 years after the divorce, but hey, I couldn't deal with it until now... Thank you for all your patience!

_A/N_ _Well, it’s time again for my SMD – my Standard Medical Disclaimer, folks. As I always do, I am pulling medical stuff out of the, um, ether. Yeah, that’s where I’m pulling it from. Apologies to anyone affected by the following injuries and our medical professionals out there!_

Jamie and his father took all of the photos and the measurements and worked out how they were going to organize the remodel. Jamie felt confident that if the crew worked at their usual pace, it wouldn’t take more that three weeks to do everything and all would be ready before Claire returned home. He already had the materials in stock for ramps for the front and back doors but decided that he was going to put in an extra-wide sliding glass door to take advantage of the views of the garden and mount remote-controlled security shutters for privacy and safety**. Plus, a sliding door would let much more light into the kitchen-living room space. The kitchen was spacious and boasted a generous custom kitchen table that could seat 4 on a normal day and 10 with the three leaves in. None of them put much stock in formality, so they hadn’t bothered to add-on a dining room or formal living room space. The setup they had pleased all three of them. Jamie suggested removing the carpet for ease of movement. Lamb and Firouz readily agreed. The carpet was old and they’d discussed replacing it with new carpet or refinishing the hardwood oak floors underneath the carpet but the decision hadn’t been urgent, so they’d let it slide. Jamie promised that his men would do a fine job of refinishing the floors should they need it. 

The men started first on widening the doorways and Jamie showed Firouz and Lamb the sliding door he’d chosen. Lamb smiled, “You know, Jamie, Firouz and I spent so many years in other countries on digs that we never really had time to develop a personal decorating style. Every stitch of furniture here is due to digs and Claire’s sense of fashion, combined with our need for utility. Please just choose what you think Claire will like. That way, none of us,” he winked at Jamie, “and that includes you, Brian and the crew, “will get in trouble when she gets home.” 

Jamie’s mouth dropped open and Firouz clapped Lamb on the back, 

“Well said, dear, well said!” And they both grinned at Jamie and burst out laughing, as did Jamie and the entire crew. Firouz and Lamb heard the married men say, “Aye, aye, happy wife, happy life!” 

Brian smiled and said, “Ye know th’ sayin’ ‘Happy wife, happy life’? Weel, in this case, it would be, “Happy Claire, no despair!” and belly-laughed. Lamb’s eyebrows reached for the sky and he huffed out a laugh, “Aye, Brian, tha’s the truth o’ it!”

TWO WEEKS LATER

Jamie had been visiting after work every couple of days with Fergus in tow and always brought pictures of the retrofitting. The two things he kept from her were the sliding glass door and the automatic shutters. Those were a special surprise for Claire. She did enjoy his visits so she could talk to someone about something other than herself. Jamie found himself liking Claire more and more, and hoped when she would eventually go out with him. Claire was hoping the same thing and was wrestling with how to ask him out. She was pretty sure Jamie could find a babysitter for Fergus or bring him over to his parents for a night. She hemmed and hawed about it and finally had to lay it down for a while. She would just have to wait until the time was right. Eventually she realized that, like may other things in her life, if they were meant to go out, it would fall into place at its appointed time.

Today was the start of her third week as a patient in her own hospital and she tried to focus on reading an e-book on her computer. The afternoon stretched out for Claire and she wondered how much longer she’d have to remain bedridden. She knew the medical reason for the bed rest, of course, but that didn’t stop her from feeling restless. Geil, Joe and other hospital colleagues and friends came by when they could, and Claire was grateful for that. She knew how busy they all were. 

Back at the house, the work was progressing as planned. Jamie and Brian hoped if the floors weren’t in need of too much doctoring that they might be able to have everything done a day or so ahead of schedule. The doors were all widened and the rough-in for the sliding door had been constructed. Jamie had made sure that there was a screen door with the sliding door so that the family could enjoy fresh breezes in the house without the nuisance of bugs. 

On Tuesday, Claire’s medical team came in and explained that they wanted to get images of her injuries to see how her body was healing. The imaging was scheduled for the following morning.

Wednesday morning dawned and Claire was taken bright and early to the imaging suite. It seemed like the imaging would never be finished. Eventually, though, an exhausted Claire was brought back to her room where she fell into a deep sleep for several hours. Jamie was coming today after work and Claire was excited to tell him that they’d taken images to see how well she was healing. To Claire’s surprise, Jamie came at 3:30 p.m. without Fergus.

“Jamie! It’s good to see you. Fergus didn’t come today?” Claire asked, arching an eyebrow at her new friend.

He smiled back at her, eyes dancing, “Och, nooo, lass, I tol’ him we have adult things ta discuss. Wee gomerel jus’ laughed and called his Granny ta come git him,” Jamie chuckled.

“Things to discuss, hmmm? What would those be, _Master Jamie_?” Claire’s sultry whisper made Jamie’s stomach flop around like a fish landed on a pier.

He walked confidently closer and bent down to rumble, “Weel, _Mistress Claire,_ he drawled, “about them. I believe I left some things unsaid, an’ I’ve come ta rectify that. Would ye allow me, lass?”

She looked up at his broad form and gestured to the seat next to her, “Please, sit, Sir.” She blinked her warm honeyed eyes slowly. Just then, sunshine pierced the clouds and a shaft of golden light made her pupils constrict. Her tigered irises seemed to dance enchantingly with the light in the most beautiful palette Jamie had ever seen. He sucked in an awed breath and stared unabashedly at her singular beauty, lost in a fantasy of soft kisses, warm breath and gentle touches. He felt something cool and fleeting on his cheek and realized it wasn’t a fantasy at all. Claire _had_ slipped her cool fingers onto his cheek and drawn him so gently into an all-encompassing kiss that reality and fantasy were indistinguishable. Jamie floated back into his body and realized she’d done it again, the wee minx. She’d beaten him to the punch _and_ stolen his thunder. _God, I love a challenge_ , he said to himself.

In retribution, he tipped her chin up slightly and clasped her hands in his. He laid a kiss on her that left no doubt about his growing esteem and feelings. His lips were warm, soft, giving and demanding all at once. Claire knew this was the kiss of a lifetime – she’d never been kissed like this, nor would she experience it with any other man as she was right now with Jamie. He explored her lovely mouth, enjoying the pleasured sighs coming from the beautiful woman in front of him. Claire was relaxed and energized by the kiss at the same time. He was turning her inside out and upside down and her stomach flipped the loop-de-loop more times than she could count. When he rumbled his satisfaction in her ear after gently breaking the kiss, her underwear became soaked in a torrent of arousal that shook her to her core.

A hesitant knock sounded at the door, “Claire, may we come in?” it was Frank Randall’s voice.

“Um, one second, please,” Claire called hastily, obviously flustered.

She looked up at Jamie and drowned in hot flames of embarrassment. He, though, was no help. He was beet-red as well. He jumped out of the chair and stammered, “We-well, lass, it sounds like yer team is here. I’ll be seein’ ye in a few days, aye?”

She grabbed desperately for his hand, stage-whispering, “No! Jamie! Stay!” She blushed in shame at her command, “I meant,” she started again, “would you please stay? I feel like I’m going to need a friend for the next few minutes. Please?” She looked up into his face, her eyes pleading and Jamie knew he could refuse her nothing. 

“Aye, lass, I’ll stay as long as ye want,” and he picked up the chair and parked it parallel to her elbow, close enough for Claire to reach out and grasp his hand if she needed it. She grasped it before he sat down all the way. Jamie scooted a little closer so he could hold her hand in his on her bed. 

“Okay, Frank, I’m ready,” Claire called out. She acknowledged him with a smile, “thanks for waiting. This is my friend Jamie Fraser.” Jamie stood and shook Frank’s hand and acknowledged the rest of the team. 

“Do you have news for me?”

“Yes, Claire. As before, I’m not going to sugarcoat anything, ok?”

She looked him in the eyes, “I appreciate your honesty, Frank, thank you.”

“Alright,” he said, opening up his laptop, “Almost everything is healing fine. Unfortunately, there is a tiny portion of your lower leg bone, the tibia, that did not begin healing. It was badly cracked in the accident and nearly separated from the rest of the bone when you were brought in here. We’d like to go in and remove it.” Frank paused to let Claire digest this information.

“Alright, Frank, let’s rip the bandage off. What’s the fallout of this nuclear disaster?”

Frank’s silent eyebrow raise and the hint of Frank swallowing a smile was all the reaction Claire got for her crack.

“You’ll have a permanent limp, Claire.” Unconsciously, Claire squeezed Jamie’s hand. “It will be very slight and we can treat it with a lift in your shoe. You may be susceptible to arthritis when you get older as well as the possibility of backaches you didn’t have before.”

Claire swallowed quickly and had to force the next question from her throat. It came out as a hoarse whisper, “And my surgical career? What of that?”

Frank looked at her steadily, “Only time will tell, Claire. I’ve never had a case like yours so I’m trying to find literature on it. In the meantime, we still need for you to rest and heal.”

Claire groaned, “Ermahgerd, Frank, I need to get up before I become part of the bed!”

He smiled at her, “I realize it’s hard, Claire. We’ll see how you’re doing next week.”

With her free hand, Claire reached out and gave Frank a hug and he hugged her very gently in return, “I know you did your best, Frank, and reporting on that sucked big donkey dick. Thanks for being honest.” Frank turned the most delightful shade of hibiscus red, Claire grinned crookedly at him and they burst out laughing, as did everyone else in the room. The medical team left and closed the door behind them. 

As soon as the door clicked shut, tears coursed down her face, blurring her vision. Jamie bent over, hugged her carefully and stroked her hair. He kissed her head and her cheeks and murmured words of comfort in English, French and the [Gàidhlig](https://www.thefreedictionary.com/G%c3%a0idhlig). He remained bent over until her sobs lessened. He got a warm washcloth and bathed her face and hands and held her again when she cried because he was so caring. This time, too, he held her until he felt her slump groggily against his shoulder and he repeated the warm washcloth treatment. He made sure she was comfortable, kissed her lips and forehead and left her to sleep. 

He drove to a remote park to get some air and think. It was only then that James Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser allowed his tears to come - and come they did. He cried in sorrow, for Claire’s agony because of a drunk driver and Fergus’ obliviousness, at the time, to the costs of his actions. He cried, too, because he realized his heart was forfeit to The One - an incredible woman he’d met through a series of events that would appear random to a casual observer. Jamie knew better – it was God’s grace. Jamie knew from that moment on that he would spend the rest of his life in love with She of the Whisky Eyes.

Notes:

*Messy Marvin was a character in a Hershey’s chocolate syrup commercial in the US in the mid-1980s. He was only allowed to use Hershey’s syrup because it was the only one he could use without making a tremendous mess. Messy Marvin was played by Peter Billingsley, from “A Christmas Story.”

**https://www.innovativeopenings.com/window-security/exterior-rolling-shutters/


	8. AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS

Alright, my lovelies, it’s time for Readers’ Choice!

I can’t decide if I should smuttify this fic or leave it at kissing/petting/no smut. What say ye? Please, leave your opinions for me! I will continue writing, but I really want to hear your voices!

AND NOW, BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING


	9. AND NOW BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING!

Hear Ye, Hear Ye! Well! did I EVER get an earful from you, my beautiful, sexy readers! I LOVE IT! 

*Opens envelope*

AND WITH A TALLY OF 10,000 TO NONE, TEAM SMUTTY SMUTTY SMUT SMUT HAVE TRIUMPHED!

ALL HAIL TEAM SMUT!

With warm thanks to all of you wonderfuls who voted!

All of you made me thankful to have found AO3 and a few of you made me shout in laughter and then snort in a very undignified manner at your replies to my query.

And an extra squishy thank-you to Her Ladyship, BB58, for crowning me Queen of Smut! I'm so honored!

All I can say, is, BUCKLE UP, HONEYS! THE SMUT TRAIN IS SPEEDING IN YOUR DIRECTION!

xx Distracted


	10. Chapter 10

Jamie and his crew kept working at the house and slowly it came together, piece by piece. Brian and Jamie were relieved to see that the floors just needed a deep cleaning and buffing; they weren’t damaged at all. Lamb and Firouz marveled over the floors, “Jamie, Brian, it’s like the entire house got bigger with no carpet!” Firouz said, admiring the gentle shine of oak mellowed from years of protection from sunlight and everyday use. 

“Oh, aye, it’s much more open and airy here now. Imagine how wonderful it will be in the springtime to be able to leave the sliding glass doors open!” Brian enthused, “Ye can have barbecues and picnics for your friends; it’ll be grand.”

On a Wednesday morning, Claire was studying some notes from Frank’s latest surgery. It had been a bowel resection and had gone quite well. A light knock on her door made her look up, “Yes, may I help you?” The hallway was rather dark and it was difficult for Claire to see who had knocked, “Could you please step into the light? I can’t see you well.”

The visitor came into the room and introduced herself, “Hello, Ms. Beauchamp, my name is Ellen Fraser, I’m Fergus Fraser’s granny.” She was taller than Claire, about 5’7”(170 cm) with a voluptous figure, not unlike Claire’s. Luminous, freckled skin kissed Viking cheekbones crowned by the most beautiful red curls Claire had ever seen. They fell past her shoulders in a luxurious mane and Claire could see that Jamie was the spitting image of his mother, except that she had amazing, marled-gray eyes. She held a bouquet of fragrant lavender roses in her hands, perfectly arranged in a simple glass vase.

“Come in, Mrs. Fraser, please,” Claire smiled in welcome.

“Och, lass, please, call me Ellen,” the redhead smiled in return. 

“Please, call me Claire.”

“And these are for you, my dear.”

“Oh, they’re so beautiful, Ellen, thank you!” Claire smiled and Ellen put them on the small corner table so Claire could look at them whenever she wanted.

“May I sit?” Ellen asked politely.

Claire smacked her forehead with her palm in exasperation and said in the Gàidhlig, “I’m so sorry, how rude of me, Ellen! Please, sit!”

Ellen smiled at Claire’s fluency and complimented her, “My, lass, your parents did a great job with teaching you our language,”

“Oh, it was my mother. She was an Edinburghian who met my dad when she went to Alabama for a year in high school. They married a few years after that but she made sure I knew all about my culture. That’s why I have my accent,” and Claire smiled and blushed a little bit.

“Yes, Jamie has mentioned it; how different it is and how melodious it is compared to how we speak,” Ellen chuckled.

“That’s what you think about how you speak? That it isn’t beautiful to others’ ears?” Claire wrinkled her brow in surprise.

“Well, aye, I don’ think most Americans or even English, fer that matter, think it’s pretty at all.”

Claire snorted in derision, “Well, that’s just silly. I love it,” and she smiled broadly at Ellen. “In fact, I’d bet if you and the family took a trip to the U.S., people would be asking you left and right where you’re from. When you’d tell them where, I’ll bet dollars to donuts they’ll start telling you about their Scottish roots,” she stated boldly.

Ellen smiled and then pulled up her chair so she could speak quietly to the young woman. She cleared her throat and willed herself not to cry; thanking Claire for her selflessness was why she’d come, after all. “Claire, I’d like ta thank ye fer saving Fergus th’ other day. I dinna know what got into the bairn.” She frowned, “Aye, I do know. He jus’ didna think. If ye hadn’t been there, lass,” and Ellen cleared her throat, trying to stave off hot tears threatening to fall and failing abjectly, “God, Claire, thank ye fer savin’ ma grandson. We are so grateful to ye.” Ellen started sobbing and Claire took her hand and traced soothing strokes on it to try and calm the older woman.

“Ellen, I didn’t even think, honestly. I don’t remember even going after him. I heard the car and Fergus took off. Before I even realized what was happening, I was on the ground and Brian was scooping him up, thank God. I would have done the same for any bairn. I had this talk with Jamie, too, and I pointed out to him that he’d have done the same thing for someone else’s child. I think you or Brian would’ve too.”

Ellen had pulled a tissue out of her sleeve and turned her head to blow her nose. When she looked back at Claire, her mouth quivered with the force of the emotion she felt for this young woman. She excused herself to freshen up and wash her hands. When she came back, she said,

“Claire, when ye’re able, Brian and I would like ta invite ye ta meet the whole family at our seat, Lallybroch. ‘Tis my husband’s ancestral clan home, built in 1715 by the first Laird of Lallybroch. Jamie and Brian have told me many stories about ye and yer uncles, and they’re invited too, of course. I think if ye come in the afternoon on a Friday and arrange ta stay the weekend, we can make sure that Brian gives your uncles the grand architectural tour. Brian owns his ancestor’s Viking-era sword, and I’ll bet Lamb and Firouz havena’ seen its equal outside of a museum.”

Claire’s eyes sparkled, “Oh, ‘my boys’ will have a grand weekend, Ellen, I’m positive! I accept.”

“Weel, yes, dearie, they are only men, after all. We women ha’ ta manage them weel an’ try ta keep ‘em outa trouble as we’re able, aye?” Ellen smirked and the devil danced a jig in her eyes.

Claire shouted with laughter and said, “Oh, aye, my lady, that we must!” The women looked at each other and laughed together, their mirth echoing off walls in Claire’s room and the hallway, too.

It was at that moment when Brian and Jamie came around the corner to Claire’s room and heard the women’s hearty laughter. Brian looked at his son doubtfully and abruptly stopped walking. He grabbed his son’s arm and whispered, “Och, mo mhac, do ye think that kind o’ laughter a-tween twa lasses is a good thing or no?”

Jamie gulped, “Nay, Da, I canna say that sounds good for us menfolk, not at all. I reckon Mam and Claire ha’ only jus’ met; so, no, this sounds like trouble.” He straightened his shoulders and exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The two Frasers gave each other fortifying looks and waded into battle.

Jamie knocked carefully at the door and the women looked up and tittered at each other. Composing themselves, they couldn’t help glancing at each other and giggling full-out. Brian and Jamie stood patiently; they knew better than to say anything smart right now. They waited until the girls stopped giggling and Claire invited them in, “Hello, men, come in. Ellen’s come by and invited my uncles and me to spend a weekend at Lallybroch when I’m able, and I’ve accepted,” she winked at father and son, who both blushed to the tips of their ears. Brian recovered himself before Jamie and replied,

“Hullo, Claire, I’m Brian, Ellen’s husband.” He grasped her hand very gently, “Thank ye fer what ye did, Claire.” Now it was Claire’s turn to blush as Brian’s deep blue feline eyes seemed to look right into her soul, just like his son’s.

“You’re welcome, Brian. I’m glad it turned out as well as it did.” Claire smiled gently at the older man, willing him to relax.

“Aye, lass, Ellen and I would enjoy hostin’ ye three at th’ house for a weekend. Our eldest son, Willie, he lives with his wife an’ three children in a house on our land, and our oldest child, Jenny, lives with us in the main house with her husband, Ian and their twa bairns. Rabbie, Jamie’s younger brother, isna married an’ lives in a cottage on the estate as well, as does Jamie. They’re all within minutes of the main house an’ we wouldn’t have it any other way. We ha’ plenty o’ room fer th’ three o’ ye and more, besides. Please do come.”

Ellen joined her husband and gave him a gentle squeeze, “Aye, mo leannan, tha’s right. Claire, everyone wants ta meet ye, ken? An’ ye don’ haveta worry, none of us bite.”

Claire smirked at Ellen, who could just _see_ that something sassy was brewing; she didn’t have to wait long,

“That’s alright, Ellen, because I do!” Ellen’s eyebrows reached for the sky and she burst out laughing. Brian and Jamie’s mouths dropped open and Claire snorted at the priceless expressions they wore. Both men laughed at Claire’s snort and Ellen’s red face as a nurse came in to ask them to “be quiet, please, fer heaven’s sake!” and tut-tutted her way out the door like a frustrated chicken chasing her babies.

“Jamie, we’ll go pick up Fergus from school, aye? He wants ta help me bake cookies an’ bread this afternoon.”

“Thanks, Mam, I appreciate it. I’ll come over ta get him later.”

“Nay, ye can have a break. I haven’a had ma grandson wi’ me fer a couple o’ weeks an’ I miss him. He can help his grandda wi’ chores tanight. We’ll take ‘im ta school tamorra,” Ellen insisted.

Jamie glanced at Ellen, “Ye sure, Mam? Ye know how Fergus gets wi’ a bit o’ sugar in him,” Jamie warned.

“Och aye, ‘tis no different than ye at that age, ye wee gomerel! Ye ready, Brian?” Ellen turned towards her husband of 40 years.

“Aye, mo chridhe, let’s go.” He strode over to the bed and kissed its occupant on the cheek, as a father would a beloved daughter.

Just as the elder Frasers were about to leave, Geilis and Joe walked into the room. Claire smiled and introduced Geilis and Joe to Ellen and Brian, “Ellen, Brian, these are my two best friends, Dr. Joe Abernathy and Dr. Geilis Duncan.” Brian and Ellen shook hands with the doctors. 

Ellen piped up, “Claire, when we make plans fer tha weekend, Joe and Geilis are welcome to stay, too, aye?”

She glanced at Brian, “Och, aye, lass, the twa o’ ye are welcome. Please do plan to come!” He smiled broadly and Geilis could see why Ellen would have fallen for the handsome Scot so many years ago.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I had a request to post the next chapter quickly, so here it is. Please let me know what you think, as always!

Geilis smiled in return and so did Joe, excited at the prospect of what sounded like a fun weekend. Brian took his wife’s hand and headed towards the door. She stopped walking and said, “Just a minute, a bhalaich, I’ll be right back.”

Brian rolled his eyes as he saw Ellen make a beeline for Claire. He shared a knowing look with his second son as Jamie was unceremoniously nudged out of his mother’s way, “I want ta talk to Claire a moment, son.”

“Now, Mam, Claire has – “ Jamie slammed the brakes on that sentence as he saw his mother raise a perfect eyebrow at him. He knew that warning – he and his siblings called it “the eyebrow of doom” and all four children knew ignoring it could spell disaster. He raised his hands in surrender and backed towards Brian and relative safety quickly.

Ellen sat next to Claire, who couldn’t suppress a giggle at the dynamics she’d witnessed. She was _definitely_ Team Ellen on this one!

Ellen bent her head towards the brunette and whispered conspiratorially, “Lass, ma son Rabbie is single. Is Geilis, too?”

“Yes, Ma’am, she surely is,” whispered Claire.

“So, ehm, she and Joe arena’...?”

“Oh, golly, Ma’am, no. We’re all best friends, nothing more. And I’ll tell ya something else, Miss Ellen –“ and she grinned, “Joe is single too, and he loves to eat! Both of them need strong people by their sides.”

“An’ Joe is attracted to...?”

“Ladies, Ma’am, I’ve never heard him voice anything else.”

Ellen grinned and Claire saw the gears in Ellen’s brain rotating as the older woman beamed. “Guid! I _also_ happen to have a single friend in my knitting circle, and she’s from Jamaica – never been married, loves to cook! I’ll invite her for the weekend, too!”

Brian covered his face in despair and Jamie swore _very quietly_ under his breath as they heard the women’s high-pitched squeals of excitement. Jamie whispered, “Och, Da, we shouldna’ allowed these two wicked besoms ta meet, ever! Ye have ta stop her meddlin’ an’ matchmakin’, please!”

Brian fixed his despairing son with a stern look and hissed, “An when, in the last 40 years, ha’ I had any say in matters o’ tha heart when yer Mam gets a wild hair, eh? Tell me, Jamie!”

The two shook their heads grimly. Poor Joe and Rabbie stood no chance against Ellen _and_ Claire – not a snowball’s chance in hell...

Later that afternoon, while Geilis and Joe were visiting, Frank came in to check on Claire, “How’re you doing, Tex?”

She smiled wanly at him, “Well, physically, I’m okay, Frank, thanks. I really miss the outdoors, though. Is there any way I could go outside to the meditation garden out back?”

Frank thought for a moment, “Let’s see. You’ve been convalescing how long? Three weeks, right?”

Claire nodded.

“Okay, here’s what we can do.” Frank looked at his colleagues and Jamie and pursed his lips. “I’m going to get a wheelchair. Tex, you okay with Jamie helping you into the chair?”

Geilis’ and Joe’s eyebrows both reached for the sky when Frank was done speaking. Quickly, Geilis IM’d Joe,

“WTF? Is this the serious, straight-laced Frank Randall we all know and love?”

Joe texted her back, “OMG I know, RITE? Wonders never cease!”

Claire blushed twelve shades of red, “Um, that would be f-fine. Jamie, do you mind helping me into the chair?”

Jamie blushed nearly as fiercely as Claire, “No, I don’t, Claire.” He swallowed and ventured timidly, mindful that he was surrounded by her protective friends, “May I also accompany ye to tha garden?”

Claire’s mouth opened a little in surprise and Jamie had to kill a groan when he saw her tongue moisten her generous lips. 

Claire could feel Frank’s, Joe’s and Geilis’ eyes burning holes into her head, waiting like cats in front of a mouse’s hole for her answer, “Do you have time? I-I mean, I’d love it but...?” She looked down, suddenly bashful. 

“Och, aye, lass, ma crew know ta go to Da wi’ any questions. If anything major happens, they can reach me, too.” 

Frank piped up, “Good, then it’s settled. I would have asked the doctors to do it but I know their breaks are ending shortly.”

Frank announced, “Right, Tex, time to get you a chariot. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.“ With that, the unlikely Cupid turned on his heel and was, in fact, back very quickly with a chair. 

Jamie walked over to the bed, looking a little lost, somehow. Frank positioned the chair so that Jamie could place her easily in the chair.

Claire blushed as she pushed back her bedclothes and Jamie leaned over her, speaking in a soothing, quiet voice. “Alright, lass, put yer arms around my neck, aye? Easy does it, a nighean. Jamie’s neck felt as if it was burning as her cool arms encircled his neck.

“Good,” He rumbled and took a cleansing breath, desperately focusing on anything else except how _right_ her arms felt caressing him, “Let’s both take a couple of calming breaths. I want ye ta think on something that relaxes ye or makes ye happy, aye?”

Claire summoned all her courage and looked in his eyes. Jamie felt as if her gaze was scorching a path all the way down to his heart. If he hadn’t been lost to her before, he would have been after the trusting look in her eyes. “Ye tell me when ye’re ready, lass. I won’ touch ye afore then, aye?”

“I trust you, Jamie.” Claire was surprised she could even get the words out; her arms were tingling after feeling like they’d been zapped with electricity when she smoothed her arms around the big man’s powerful neck.

Jamie swallowed the lump in his throat, “Are ye ready then, a leannan?” He looked down at her and she simply nodded. Jamie ghosted his fingers slowly underneath her legs and placed his free hand on her back. He did not move for a few seconds; he wanted Claire to get used to his touch first and relax. When he felt her muscles loosen slightly, he rumbled to her, “Alright, on the count of three I’ll lift ye, aye?”

“Go ahead, my friend,” Claire answered calmly.

“One, two, and up on three,” Jamie said quietly, and lifted Claire. She couldn’t weigh much more than 110 lbs (50 kg) soaking wet, Jamie guessed. She was as light as a feather and he had to remember to lift and move slowly so he didn’t jar her healing body. He transferred her into the chair and covered her carefully with a blanket that Geilis had brought directly from a warmer. He squatted in front of her and looked into her eyes, “Are ye feelin’ alrigh’, lass? Comfy?”

“Yes, Jamie, thank you so much,” Claire smiled at him and Jamie felt like the sun had risen in her face. 

He gave her a crooked smile, trying to camouflage his emotions, and whispered hoarsely, “Are ye ready, then, Milady?”

She giggled and said, “Yes, Milord, I am,” she drawled in a perfect Edinburghian accent.

“Alrigh’, Milady, yer kingdom awaits!”

Claire laughed out loud, Jamie blushed and they waved to the three doctors and disappeared around the corner.

Geilis and Joe made to leave but Randall called them back, “Just one moment, doctors. I’d like to discuss something with you,” it certainly _sounded_ like an order. Coming from a peer, it made the two friends bristle slightly,

“Yes, Dr. Randall, how may we help you?” Joe inquired in an exaggeratedly polite fashion, obviously irritated.

“Alright, you guys, we all know I let Claire get out of bed somewhat early,” Randall started. He held up his hands when he saw Duncan opening her mouth to put in her two cents’ worth, “In my defense,” he continued calmly, “that was a test. I wanted to watch the dynamic between Claire and Fraser after all the scuttlebutt I’d heard about them being an item.”

Joe and Geilis could have been knocked over with a feather – Frank “Straight-Arrow” Randall even remotely interested in a colleague’s love life? He’d paid attention to idle gossip? How was it possible?

“Which one of you is willing to bet on how long it takes them to get married after that little show?” Frank raised his eyebrows in challenge.

Joe and Claire looked at each other dumbfounded and then grinned at Frank. Geilis was the first to speak up (of course!), “Aye, Frank, I’ll buy a slice o’ that pie; let’s see,” she tapped a finger against her chin and looked to the heavens for guidance, “eighteen months, so, July 2022.” She lifted her chin defiantly and motioned in Joe’s direction, “Abernathy?”

“Yeah, Frank, I’ll take a piece of that action, for sure. No way, Duncan, did you see his face? He wants to enjoy her for breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, lunch, afternoon coffee, dinner, dessert AND a nightcap!” crowed Joe. “I wager 9 months‘ dating and three months’ engagement for a wedding in January 2022.”

Geilis narrowed her eyes, “What do YOU say, Frank? This Frankenstein is your brainchild, after all!”

Frank smiled easily, “Wedding in September of 2021. Mark my words, they’re so hot for each other they won’t be able to wait any longer than that. Plus, I can hear in Fraser’s accent that he’s a Highlander. September in the Highlands is _perfect_ for nuptials!”

Geilis sputtered, “An’ jest how do _ye_ know that, Frank?” She narrowed her deep green eyes and eyed him suspiciously.

He regarded her with a mock-haughty air, “Pfft. You know nothing, NOTHING of my romantic streak, Duncan! My husband, Tom and I, we _specifically_ chose the Highlands in September for our wedding last year!”

Geilis’ jaw hit the floor, as did Joe’s. Delighting in their expressions like a pig in a fresh puddle of muck after a spring rain, Randall crowed, “Ha! This has to be kept from Claire, of course. Minimum bet is ten quid. Spread the word, my flying monkeys!” And Frank Randall snapped his fingers, made a broad flourish with his arm and cackled, much like a green-skinned black-berobed woman we all know. He swept out of Claire’s room, riding high, the champion of the hour. Behind him, he heard Duncan’s and Abernathy’s laughter echoing off the walls of Claire’s room and grinned in triumph.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alllllllright, my lovelies, the Smut Train has pulled into the station for an extended stay! As always, constructive comments, ideas, Sam Heughan's, Duncan LaCroix's and/or Tobias Menzies' real cellphone numbers would be MOST welcome. Any bills for damaged body parts welcome! Please let me know what you think!

Claire and Jamie sat side-by-side in the garden in the full sun. Claire had her hands in her lap, luxuriating in the warmth on her skin. The temperature was perfect and the skies were a beautiful, clean, cloudless blue. She took deep breath after deep breath, enjoying the burn of the breeze-cooled air in her body, reinvigorating her. She stretched her hands and arms above her head. Jamie swallowed as the blanket shifted and her chest was exposed. He could see a tantalizing outline of her body through her hospital gown. He moved quickly to protect her modesty, pullling the blanket back up so she wouldn’t catch a chill, “Seo a nis”(there now), he murmured, unaware he’d lapsed into his mother tongue. 

Claire’s eyes sparkled and she answered, “Thank you my friend, for helping me protect my modesty. You are quite the gallant gentleman. I've really enjoyed getting to know you and I hope it continues.”

Jamie’s jaw hit the floor. He stared at her, eyes agog and said in the Gàidhlig, “Ye’re fluent, Claire!”

She smirked, “Yes, speaking and writing. I plan on making sure all of my children are fluent, too.” Unable to resist, she asked, “And how about you?”

Jamie smiled brighter than the sun, “Aye, I do. French too, and if I ha’ more bairns than Fergus, they’ll all learn it.”

“Yep, French and Gàidhlig at home and English at school and in public,” She blushed, “That’s been my longtime plan as well. But,” she sighed, “Do you know how hard it is to find a partner who speaks three languages well, Jamie?” She looked at him and realized the silliness of what she’d said, “Oh, of course you do.”

Jamie laughed from deep in his chest and it made Claire shiver in want, “Yes, I totally understand why that’d pop out of your mouth. It’s like you want to meet that person for so long because you think you’re the only unicorn left. You think you’ll never see another like yourself.”

Claire nodded dreamily, “Yes, but then when it happens, it’s – “And they both finished the sentence,

“Magic.” Surprised at their synchronicity, they looked at each other and burst into giggles. Jamie snorted, “Why, hello, Madam Unicorn, fancy meeting you here!”

Claire bit her lip to control herself and choked out, “Mister Unicorn, so pleased to meet you!”

Claire took Jamie’s hand, “Jamie, thank you so much for today. Being out here in the sunshine and with the fresh air and flowers has been wonderful. You’ve taken a weight off my heart.” She placed her tiny hand over his heart and her companion thought the muscle would stop beating, so surprised was he. She leaned over towards his ear and whispered huskily, “Let me show you how grateful I am, Big Red.” She kissed his ear and sucked on his pulse point in his neck. Hearing his delighted rumble, she kept going. Butterfly-gentle kisses on his jaw and over to his waiting mouth. She cradled his handsome visage in her warm hands and her gentleness was gone. She sank her fingers into his curls and yanked hard enough to show him she meant business - and elicited a passionate growl from the large man. Jamie moaned softly as her pink tongue shivered over his neck and begged for entry into his mouth. Permission granted, she licked and sucked on his tongue, relieved she’d not pushed him too far. Jamie was extraordinarily glad for his oversized sweatshirt that covered his groin. His cock stirred and the fine hair on the back of his neck rose in arousal. He very carefully slid his warm hands over her ribcage and held her lightly, his thumbs waltzing their way towards her breasts. She moaned when his thumbs hit their target, brushing her hospital gown against the swell of her breasts, creating enough friction to turn the lady’s nipples into diamond-hard points. He smiled against her rosebud lips and broke the kiss, only to follow the same path Claire had in reverse. He kissed her lips once more (because he could), then trailed hot kisses onto her lower cheek and jawline and right up to her earlobe, upon which he gingerly fed until she whimpered in arousal and came on her hospital gown. He loved the feeling of being “hidden” in her hair, which smelled like honey and jasmine today. Geilis must’ve helped her wash her hair the day before. He reluctantly extracted himself from his “hidey-hole” and took her hands in his. They were both still breathless, really. It was a few minutes before Claire’s heart stopped pounding and Jamie’s pulse returned to its steady rhythm. He made sure to keep his sweater arranged over his lap until things _down there_ had a chance to cool their jets, too. 

Claire squeezed his hand, “Jamie, I’m getting a little sleepy. Would you mind bringing me back inside,” and she motioned for him to come closer, which he did, feline eyes twinkling, “and hold my hand until I fall asleep?”

He smiled gently at her and caressed her cheek, “O’ course, mo nighean draoidheil (my enchanting girl).”

He brought her back inside and bade her to place her arms around his neck again. Would that ever stop feeling like paradise? He doubted it. As he was putting his arm around her back, he noticed that the gown was riding up on her back, so he tugged it down a bit and slid his other hand underneath her legs - and inadvertently brushed his forearm against the very edge of her fabric-covered labia. Her breath hitched softly and he prayed for his morality at that moment, because he felt the tiniest evidence of the beautiful woman’s arousal and passion for him on the cotton slip-sliding along his arm. His body reacted, of course, as did hers. She’d felt the inadvertent contact as much as he – and she was boldly glad it happened. Neither spoke as Jamie eased her onto her mattress again. Jamie thought sure she could hear his heart beating out of his chest. He took the top sheet and blankets in his hands and pulled them gently over her lap. He looked into her wide-blown eyes and swallowed heavily, “Alrigh’, _my lady_?”

She looked at his eyes, nearly black with desire, “Oh, aye, _Sir_ , you have _served_ _me_ well today. Thank you _very_ kindly.”

Jamie just looked at her stupidly, mouth open slightly. Claire took his hand again when she saw him lick his lips, “Are you alright, Big Red?”

He blinked back to reality, blushing, “Oh, yea, I’m ok, Claire,” he smiled and squeezed her hand gently and sat next to her, “Alright, a nighean, ye promised if I’d stay ye’d try ta get some shuteye, isn’t that right?”

She yawned and said, “yep, and since I conned,” and she winked at him, “uh, asked you nicely to stay until I fall asleep and you’re my friend, won’t you do that for me?” and she teasingly batted her eyelashes at him. He laughed outright and deepened his voice and affected a _terrible_ French accent, “Oh, oui, Madame, I ‘ave promised you, n’est-ce-pas?” He parodied a nasal Frenchman’s chortle, which sent Claire into paroxysms of laughter, “hon-ho ho-hon!” and arched one eyebrow. She settled back against the pillows and smiled at him, caressing his jaw soothingly, “Thank you, Jamie,” she whispered.

He kissed her fingertips and paused for the blink of an eye longer on her ring finger before kissing her smallest digit reverently. He supported her tiny hand in his large one, making it seem even more delicate than it was. He sat back and closed his eyes as well, just for a moment. Slowly, their breathing fell into sync with one another. Jamie cracked an eye open and seeing his friend was out for the count, gently released her hand, kissed her forehead and tiptoed out of the room where two hearts had learned to beat as one. 

He drove home after stopping at his favorite Greek place for an early take-out dinner. He called his Mam and Da for an update on his son, who impatiently waited to talk to Jamie and crowed about the cookies and bread he would get to bring home. He lit a cosy fire in the fireplace, ate, watched the news, read the paper and let nearly everything from the day go. He brought his computer over to his favorite recliner to review progress reports and his Da’s notes before going to the Moriston/Beauchamp house the next morning. No matter what he did or how firmly he tried to scold himself into not thinking of the beauty at the hospital, even the tawny shade of his favorite after-dinner drink reminded him of her incredible eyes. The pink and white roses from Jenny and Mam’s garden? Her lips and her incredible skin. He shook his head in consternation and said aloud to nobody in particular, “Weel, there’s nothin’ ta be done fer it, Fraser. Ye might as well go ta bed since ye canna focus on anything other than the sìthiche beag (wee fairy). A Scottish noise of derision was aimed at himself only and he brushed his teeth and fell into bed naked, reveling in the freedom of nothing on his skin since Fergus was at Mam and Da’s. He tried counting sheep (who all had curly thick wool of varying colors, from reddish to chestnut to mahogany, petite noses, whisky eyes and whose BAAAAs bounced out of their pink rosebud mouths with a Southern lilt). No good. He tried counting backwards from one hundred, but those numbers, too, had a beautiful Alabamian rhythm tinged with bits of French and Scottish accents. Blast! He tried deep-breathing, but that only encouraged his wily thoughts to figure out new ways of ping-ponging in his head with wild abandon. He finally resorted to the one thing he knew could always shove his dinghy into the sea to Dreamland. 

He tried focusing on a pretty Hollywood starlet who’d always brought him relief in the past. But every time he focused on her face, it would morph into Claire and she’d giggle at his frustration with sultry breaths. He even tried his favorite scenario: catching his starlet in the woods, where he’d expressly forbidden her to go and punishing her for her transgression. Nope, the starlet had been blasted into oblivion by a curly-haired half-Scot, half-Alabamian wonder. It was Claire who’d unthinkingly left the safety of the house to go herb and berry picking into the surrounding woods without him or a weapon for protection.

Ensconced in his favorite fantasy, he took himself in hand and started rubbing gently. He’d never been so frightened in his life when he called, and then shouted for her and could not find her. They lived on 100 acres in the middle of the woods and their area was known to have many feral dogs who had no fear of people. He had newly taken her to wife, and it was he who had to track her down on his powerful black stallion, Donas. Sure enough, when he found her, she had climbed a tree for safety from three feral dogs that had tracked her to the glade where he found her. He dispatched the snarling, starving animals and climbed into the tree after her. He put her down on the ground gently, but when she saw his thunderously angry face, she fled. He bellowed “Claire, nighean, stad an sin! (Claire, girl, stay there!) but she did not heed him. He captured her and sighed, rubbing himself faster. Jamie gathered her struggling form in his arms and sat down on a fallen log. He imprisoned both of her delicate wrists in one of his hands and tied them securely with a long, narrow tie made of the softest rabbit fur as her gold bangles tinkled merrily. He slowly pulled her delicate lavender georgette elastic-waist skirt (sprinkled with complementary colored blossoms) down and off her legs and feet, freeing her magnificent round bottom, honeypot, thighs and calves. He made rags of her silk underwear, cut the straps of her tank top and split it open so her bare breasts spilled against his greedy hand. He made her keep her jewelry on, consisting of her 3-karat diamond and lavender sapphire engagement and wedding-ring set, two-carat flawless diamond earrings, her gold anklets, lavender sapphire and diamond oval pendant, her gold upper-arm cuff with the Fraser coat of arms and motto engraved on it and her 5-inch lavender Louboutins, complete with laces and tassels adorning her beautiful stems. He moaned as he kneaded her flesh and rolled and pinched her nipples, drawing first whimpers, then screams of protest from her lovely mouth. His fingers occasionally brushed the pendant, which he liked. He and the jeweler had measured the gold chain for the pendant so it would nestle right above her decollete, as she wished. He wondered if it was a bad sign to be jealous of a pendant.

When she was finally naked, he teased two fingers up and down her nether lips and she gasped when he plunged them inside her, curling his fingers and fucking her just right. She squealed in ecstasy, so he yanked his fingers out of her and placed his warm hand on her bottom and first pinched and made her squeal, but then rubbed the future bruises soothingly and whispered endearments to her the whole time. She begged for more pinches, but then also to be set free and wriggled enticingly on his lap.

“Lass, I’m waitin’ fer anythin’ that approaches an apology, aye? I ordered you ta stay put or at least not go out without a weapon or wi’ me! I am yer husband an’ master now.” Ye belong ta me. Ye disobeyed me and I’m gonna punish ye for it.” Jamie had to back off his ministrations lest he spill too soon after imagining himself saying those types of things to Claire out loud.

“Please, Jamie,” 

He looked at her and whispered dangerously, “Who?”

She looked down, ashamed of her slip and slightly afraid of his tone, “I apologize, Master. I-I promise to do as you say and not argue any more. Please, I’ll obey you and won’t go against your orders again.”

“That’s just it, Wee’un, ye might. A good hidin’ kin make things come inta sharper focus, ye ken? Easier ta remember. If it’d been just me, weel, I’d have said nothin’ more about it. But ye worried the entire family, lass. They were ready ta come search for ye. There’s justice that must be served. Now, be a good lass and submit ta me,” he spoke calmly, but he could feel his cock hardening at the sight of her beautiful ass quivering on his lap. “For the second and _last_ time, wife, stop struggling. Ye’ll only make it more painful on yerself.”

She whispered desperately one last time for clemency, “Please, Master, have mercy!”

Jamie nearly gave in but remembered how worried the family had been and how sick he’d felt when he thought about something happening to her. No. Her life and choices affected more than just herself now. He had to show her that.

With that, Jamie brought his hand down squarely on his wife’s beautiful seat. She howled in pain, writhed against him and jerked her hands against the restraint. Jamie licked his hand, held it up in the breeze to cool it and soothed his wife’s skin. The discipline continued for another agonizing eighteen strokes. Claire swore, screamed, danced in her mesmerizing shoes and cried. Jamie’s cock stand only got harder and stiffer the more she moved on his lap. Finally his hand crashed down on her bottom for the last stroke. Claire wept and sniffled and Jamie wiped her nose for her. He helped her stand and she smiled at him.

“Well, husband, a good wife thanks her husband for showing her the error of her ways. May I?”

Quicker than she thought possible, Jamie grinned like Satan himself and shucked his shorts. He lifted her bodily to rest her knees on a very supportive, soft cushion he’d brought with him. He opened his legs and clamped his thighs around her waist so she would feel secure. Jamie moaned her name in two parts. He was very close now, so he took his hand off his rock-hard cock to prolong the sensations whizzing around his body like fireflies in a jar. He wrapped his fist in her long braid and tugged her head back,

“Who owns your heart, lass?”

Claire smiled and whispered, “You do, Master, and I love you.”

Tears pricked his eyes and he whispered in a gravelly voice, “And I love you, my heart.” With that, she inhaled him all the way down to his root and Jamie nearly spilled in his hand right then. She worked her mouth up his shaft and back down, caressing his cock with her lips, swirling wild patterns with her pointed tongue. The goddess deep-throated him and shouted as loud as she could when she felt his tip extend down his esophagus. The vibrations made Jamie shake and shudder and his eyes roll back into his head. Jamie caressed his balls and pulled his scrotum as far as he could and felt his inevitable buildup begin. He whispered her name over and over again, like a holy prayer. In his fantasy, his wife was sucking on the tip of his cock hard and then slow, always keeping him on edge. Jamie could hold back no longer when he imagined the petite beauty alternating burrowing her tongue into his meatus and deep-throating him to his root. His come shot out of him as he shouted her name. It painted a scattered trail high up on his chest, almost to his neck. He let himself come down and then wiped himself off. His heart was beating wildly, but his tension was gone. He closed his eyes and said a prayer for the fire-eyed woman in his fantasies and his heart, hoping truly that someday, they would indeed be husband and wife.


	13. Chapter 13

Claire looked up from her case study as Frank and a herd of interns came into the room, “Hello, Dr. Randall, hello all. You have news for me?” She arched her eyebrow inquisitively.

“Yes, Claire. As always, no sugar-coating.” The tall man cleared his throat, “You remember we’d talked about letting you go home for a while and then check you back in as an inpatient for intensive rehab? The good news is, your last scans showed us you’re healing faster than we anticipated, which is wonderful.” 

Claire grinned in happiness and thought, “ _home, here I come!_ ”

“I’d hoped we’d be able to let you go home for a while to recuperate a bit to get to where your body is now, but,” And Claire’s face drained of blood, hearing one of the most hateful words in the English language, “we really should postpone it for at least a week. It would be a better idea to have you stay in the hospital while we begin rehab so we can take advantage of your accelerated recovery right away. ‘Strike while the iron’s hot,’ so to speak.” 

Frank turned to his interns and requested they wait in the hallway and close the door behind them. He sat down next to Claire and his heart cracked seeing disappointed tears fill her eyes. Unsure of why she did it when she reflected on her actions later, she reached out and placed her hand in his, relishing the feel of another surgeon’s graceful, cool fingers. “Frank,” she began with a wobbly voice as a tear escaped and tattooed her cheek, "I know this is the best thing for my recovery. Please understand that the next thing that will come out of my mouth is NOT personal, yes?”

“I can take it, Claire, hit me[1],” and he looked at her with sympathetic eyes and held her gaze.

“God fucking dammit, Frank, I fucking was looking SO forward to getting out of here for a while!” she whispered desperately. Her voice rose, “I am SO disappointed and angry! My friend Jamie has retrofitted the house so I can maneuver easily with a chair and Lamb and Firouz said it looks wonderful.” She cried in earnest now and Frank’s heart broke the rest of the way through. Without even consciously recognizing what he was doing, the slender man gathered Claire into his arms in a warm, gentle hug and said nothing, preferring to let her release her emotions as she needed. He stroked her hair and she clung tighter to him, grateful and utterly overwhelmed by his kindness. After a while, her tears subsided. She gave him a salty kiss on the cheek and whispered, “

“Thank you, Frank, for being straight with me, my friend.”

He blushed in pleasure and squeezed her hand. “You are welcome, my friend. I am sorry you can’t go home right now,” and gave her a gentle peck on the cheek. He squeezed her hands lightly, “A physio will come by tomorrow after breakfast and go over a schedule with you, okay?”

She smiled, “Yes, of course.”

Claire closed her eyes for a moment and was whisked back to a memory – a counseling session with her parish priest. She’d asked Father Anselm if she could be angry at God, “Claire, God made all aspects of us and that includes emotions. He created the universe, Heaven and Earth. I mean, look at it this way,” Father Anselm continued, “Earth is a classroom, right?” She nodded, “And anger is a natural emotion. Feeling your feelings is never wrong. What you _do_ with them is what’s important. I mean, for goodness sakes’, He created the duckbilled platypus. Have you seen one of those things? They’re the only egg-laying mammals on the planet, for – “ and he paused, “Um, His sake.” And they both giggled. “He has a sense of humor and balance. He knows we are imperfect and that life here is imperfect. He can handle your anger.” Anselm grinned and Claire laughed out loud. 

She put her case study on the table and lay back on her pillows. She had a knot of emotions tangled with thoughts rolling crazily in her head like a hamster trapped in one of those ugly plastic balls. She knew the only way to relieve her tension was prayer. 

_God, I just need a minute_ , _please._ _I’m grateful for the healing, Lord, thank you for that. I am also angry and disappointed that I can’t go home right now, you know? I’m tired and cranky and just want to scream at everyone and everything. My career? What’s going to happen to that? Why did You give me my brains and my passion for healing if I may not get to use it? What if rehab doesn’t go well and I’m stuck in a fucking chair for the rest of my days? You brought Jamie and Fergus into my life, Lord. Will he want someone in a chair? Or will he run if that’s the case? You know I’ve fallen in love with him. Now I’m afraid to tell him. Please, God, Jesus and Mother Mary, show me the path. I’m confused and lost and angry. I’ve tried so hard to keep it bottled up and not show other people, but it’s getting heavier and heavier and has started suffocating my heart. I don’t recognize myself anymore, Lord. I don’t like this Claire at all. I’m begging you, help your daughter._

Claire drifted off to sleep finally; the prayer had been like opening a huge pressure valve and she felt lighter. She woke about an hour later and found Lamb and Firouz sitting with her.

“Hello, my loves, how are you?”

Firouz leaned forward and kissed her, as did Lamb, “We’re just fine, Habibi, how are you?” Looking into his immense chocolate-syrup eyes, she couldn’t stop herself and started to cry.

“Oh, eun beag (little bird), what’s this, now?” asked Lamb, handing her a tissue.

“Frank Randall, the doctor who performed the surgery, said that my injuries have healed faster than anticipated, which is good,” she sniffed, “But, it also means I won’t be discharged to recuperate at home for a bit and then be readmitted for physio. He says the best course of action is to start physio tomorrow.” Claire looked at Lamb and her lower lip trembled, “I’m grateful that my injuries are healing so quickly, but I’m devastated that I can’t go home for a bit, you know?”

Lamb and Firouz both hurried to assure Claire that it was great news that she was healing faster than anticipated and wished she could come home to them, too.

Firouz spoke up, “Habibi, we’re all disappointed, of course. Not least because we have to cook for ourselves.” He rolled his eyes theatrically, “You have thoroughly spoiled us. We may starve to death before you get home.” He pulled a face and Lamb punched him in the arm, “We will not! I only burned that boxed macaroni and cheese a little! You said you liked it, you fibber!”

Claire’s laugh bubbled up from her chest at their silliness, “Alright, you baboons, enough with the jocularity!” She winked at them, “Thanks for making me laugh. I needed it! And you BOTH know there are frozen homemade meals and casseroles in the garage freezer to last us through Armageddon!

Lamb grinned and for a split-second, Claire could see how her beloved uncle must have looked as a little boy, “We have made quite a dent in those, mo cridhe. We’ve even invited Jamie, Fergus and the crew.”

Claire was surprised, “What did you serve? Did they like it? Did you make at least a salad on the side?”

Lamb chuckled, “Honey, we served one of your white lasagnas with the homemade noodles, spinach, baby portabellas, chicken and homemade sauce.”

Claire exhaled, relieved, “Oh good. My lasagnas freeze so well! Did you remember to put it under the broiler to brown the top?”

Firouz smiled, “Yes, Habibi. We used the directions from the little plastic bag freezer-taped on the lid of the pan, just like you taught us.”

“Nobody’s mentioned _anything_ about a salad or greens on the side,” Claire’s eyes narrowed and she raised her voice in a slightly menacing manner, “Spill – did you skip green sides because it was just you men?”

She grinned inwardly as both men ducked their heads in shame like puppies who’d widdled on the carpet, ready for a scolding,

“Yes?” Lamb whispered.

She raised both eyebrows and rolled her eyes so hard she thought they’d stay that way, “OMG what am I going to do with the two of you?”

Firouz blushed a bit and wheedled, “Come home and feed us as soon as you can?”

“Ugh, you’re hopeless, my loves. Of course I’m going to come home as soon as I can. I like _working_ here, not being a patient here! And you never told me if the men liked it!”

“Oh, well, it was your jumbo steel pan, you know the one I mean?” Claire nodded. “Um, there were eight of us..." he trailed off, "and Jamie, Angus and Rupert fought over the last piece. There was nothing left over! And we even made a whole garlic bread!”

Claire beamed, “Well, that’s lovely to hear!”

Firouz smiled, “Young Fergus would have licked his plate clean if his Grandda hadn’t scolded him.”

Claire giggled, “Well, that is high praise, indeed.”

“Yes, um,” Lamb interjected, “I’m pretty sure I heard the words “marriage proposal” being tossed around after we heated up your dark chocolate pecan brownies and served them a la mode to those who wished it.”

Claire blushed in pleasure, “Um, _okaaaaay._ That’s never happened before,” and giggled. 

The little family sat and chatted for a while and Claire’s dinner was served. The spouses stayed with her until Joe came in to check on her. He was alone because Geilis had taken a personal day.

“How’s my girl?” He asked, and settled into the chair vacated by Lamb.

“Well, I’m sad because I was hoping that I could go home for a while to recuperate. But Frank came in and said that I was actually at the point where they’d have me check in as an inpatient again for the physio, so no going home for this little turtle,” and Joe’s heart squeezed, seeing her deflated expression,

“I’m glad to hear that you’re healing faster than expected, Little Sis, but that sucks that you can’t go home. I know you were looking forward to it,” and Joe grasped her hand gently.

“It may be only a week here, we’ll see. I’m gonna work my tooter off to get home faster, you’ll see!”

Joe smiled, “Oh, I know you will, Sweetie!”

Joe told her about his interesting cases, inexperienced interns and frustrating patients that were “stomping on my last nerve!” and Claire couldn’t help but laugh at his expression – it was one that was commonly used in the south.

Joe left soon after that, promising to come by again when he had a chance. Claire sighed as he disappeared through the door and she was alone again. She stretched and did some yoga she could do sitting down. She focused on her breathing. _In and out, relax your head, your neck, your shoulders, torso, stomach, arms and hands, legs and feet and toes, Claire. That’s it._ She exhaled quietly and opened her eyes slowly, feeling more relaxed than she had all day. She picked up her case study and started reading again. The next thing she knew, she woke to see Fergus sitting at her bedside.

“Fergus! Hi! Where’s your Da? Or are you here with Brian or Ellen?” she asked, slightly concerned.

“Oh, Da went to get us cookies from Glenna’s, Milady, no worries!”

“Have you been sitting here long, son?”

Fergus smiled at the endearment, “No, about twenty minutes, that’s it. Milady, can we speak French, please?”

“Of course! Unless you’d rather practice your Ghàidhlig?”

“Oh, non, merci. French, if you don’t mind,” and off they went, speaking the beautiful language. Claire asked all about his school and how he was doing. He told her about his good grades and his third-grade science project he’d just completed on the mineral composition of the Earth. 

Jamie walked in with the beloved coffee, hot chocolate for his son and sweets he’d promised. 

His face lit up when he heard the two of them conversing in French and he gladly joined them. Besides Fergus, Jamie really didn’t have many opportunities to practice, and he was worried that his mastery was eroding.

At about 7pm, a knock sounded on the open door. Claire peered around Fergus’ head and saw a tiny dark-headed woman standing there, “Hello, may I help you?”

“Aye, may I come in?” The woman inquired politely.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, please do.”

The woman smiled and her eyes danced, “Thank ye.” The woman moved quickly, not unlike a little bright-eyed bird. Fergus crowed, “Aunt Jenny!”

She held out her arms and greeted him, “Aye, ye wee gomerel, ‘tis yer favorite Auntie,” and smiled.

“Hello, Jamie, and she kissed Jamie on the cheek.

“Hullo, piuthar, Ciamar a tha thu?”

Jenny blushed, surprised her brother would be so rude as to speak in their native language around the young lady in the bed,

“Aye, I’m fine, brother.” She arched a beautifully shaped eyebrow at him, making Claire wonder if the ability to move just one eyebrow was something all Frasers could do.

“Ye must be Claire. I’m Jenny, this one’s older sister,” and she teasingly jerked a thumb at her brother. “I apologize for The Lunkheid, here, tha’ he spoke ta me in the Ghàidhlig. He shouldn’a done tha.’” And she pinched Jamie for good measure, making him yelp and rub his arm furiously.

“But Je-“

“Oh, no no no, brother, that was rude. Apologize now!”

He hung his head and exhaled noisily, annoyed. He spoke to Claire in the Ghàidhlig _again_ , and apologized for speaking their native language, making Jenny’s mouth drop open in an incredulous “O.” _What the?_ She thought to herself, e _ven Jamie wasn’t usually this bullheaded, and that’s sayin’ a lot!_

Claire laughed and finally decided Jamie’d been tortured enough and addressed Jenny in the Ghàidhlig,

“No worries, Jenny. My mother was a Moriston, an Aberdeen native. She made sure I was fluent in spoken and written Ghàidhlig. I understood everything The Lunkheid said.”

Jamie threw an exasperated look at Claire, “Now, Claire, please don’ encourage Jenny. Ye know Gremlins canna be allowed ta get wet or get fed after midnight, aye?”

Jenny’s jaw hit the floor again, Claire started laughing at her expression, Jamie and Fergus laughed at Claire and finally, Jenny laughed at herself, “My oh my, Claire, good on ye!” and she drew an imaginary tally mark in the air, “Score one for Claire!” Jamie and Fergus clapped and cheered and Claire took a well-earned bow. “Now, brathair, would ye two gents please clear the area? I want to engage in a little _girl-talk_ with our champion of the hour. Mebbe get us somethin’ ta drink, aye?”

Jamie and Fergus took off like greased lightning when they heard “girl-talk” and Jenny could finally have a word with Claire in private.

“Claire, I wish ta thank ye fer what ye’ve done fer ma family, savin’ Fergus like tha’. He’s a lucky little boy, and he knows it.” Tears briefly clouded her eyes and she shook them away impatiently, “We were all lucky that day. Whether ye want or no, ye’re a Fraser now, Claire. Ye’ve been assimilated, like Captain Picard was by the Borg.” Jenny smiled and Claire squeezed her hand,

“Thank you, Jenny. It was my pleasure.”

“So, Jamie and I were talking and he’s regaled me wi’ a story of a ‘white lasagna’ he was served for lunch? I’d love ta get the recipe from ye, Claire. It sounds like a good place for stealth veg.”

Claire giggled, “Um, ‘stealth veg – that’s awesome! You must have littles at home.”

“Aye, Wee Jamie and Kitty, 4 an’ 1.”

“I’ll be happy to give you the recipe. I make the noodles if I have time but often just use those no-bake ones, you know?”

“Ah, yes. Good ta know. An’ he mentioned dark chocolate pecan brownies an’ something called pecan pie tarts?”

“All totally easy. We should have a tasting party and recipe exchange when I can get back into my kitchen!”

“Och, Mam has a professional kitchen set-up – “Jenny grinned when she saw Claire’s eyes get big and melty with desire,

“Yep, she does. We’ll go shopping for everything in the morning and start in the afternoon. The men can keep the children outta our hair and clean up, aye?”

“Making a mess in the kitchen and then leaving the men to clean up? It sounds positively evil. I’m in!” And the two ladies laughed and high-fived each other.

Jamie and Fergus had just rounded the corner and heard Claire’s declaration. Fergus looked up at Jamie and whispered conspiratorially, “Milord, this isna good, women cackling like hens, no?”

Jamie shushed his son, “Ye canna say tha’, Fergus, what if they hear ye? An’ no, it isn’t good a’tall, mo mhac. God preserve us,” Jamie mumbled. Both Frasers took deep breaths and entered Claire’s room. Drinks were distributed and the four spent a few minutes chatting until Jenny gathered her jacket and threw Fergus’ to him, “Alright, mac bràthar, come on. Jamie needs to talk about the remodel wi’ Claire.”

“Goodnight, Claire, have a good night. See you later, Da.”

“Goodnight, Fergus,” said Claire.

“See you later, son,” said Jamie.

When Jenny and Fergus were gone, Jamie pulled out his phone and pulled up the latest photos of the remodel, “So, Wee’un, ye’re comin’ home sometime this week, aye?” and Jamie’s smile shamed the sun.

Claire swore inwardly, _I will not cry, I will not cry! Goddammit, I’m crying!_

Jamie paled and his heart fell into his stomach when he saw her start to cry, crystalline tears rolling down her beautiful cheeks,

“Och, mo cridhe, what’s happened? Why the tears?” He grabbed a tissue and started dabbing her face hastily. He couldn’t keep pace with the tears, though. “God, Claire, I’m so sorry, lass!” Please, tell me what happened so I can help ye, aye?” He gathered her hands in his and squeezed lightly, attempting to reassure her.

Claire yanked her hands away from Jamie’s and cried even harder. The violence of their separation started his stomach churning and he hoped he wouldn’t vomit. Trembling, Jamie hoarsely whispered, “Claire, I willna touch ye anymore. Please, please, tell me what I can do. Would ye like me ta leave? I dinna want to when you’re so upset, but I will if that’s what ye want.” Alarmed, he saw her bury her hands into her own curls as she sobbed in despair. She looked at him, eyes reddened with tears.

“You want to know how you can help me, Jamie?” He nodded, frightened at the incandescent rage in her eyes, “Alright, I’ll tell you how.” Just then, Geilis came into the room and remained quiet when she heard her speaking so quietly. Claire looked him straight in the face, “I want my fucking life back! I’m sick of all of this! I’m sick of being in this bed, of not being able to go anywhere, of having to submit to people touching me all the time.” By this point, Claire was screaming. Geilis let her scream since she wasn't hurting herself or Jamie. “I want to do surgeries, cook for my boys and have my leg back to normal. And what I really want, Jamie, is for you to go back in time and ruin your own life saving your son. GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK, YOU BASTARD!” And she slapped him so hard that his cervical spine popped and groaned as his face was whipped to the side with the force of the blow. Geilis reached for her hands and Jamie growled, "No, Geilis! Let her get it out!" Claire scratched his face, pulled his hair and fisted her tiny knuckles into his shirt, tearing it at the shoulder seams. Throughout her assault, Jamie never touched her nor did he defend himself by moving away. He sat there and took it all. Geilis yelled, “Claire, stop, enough now! I’ll haveta restrain ye, a nighean!” Claire screamed and wept, “Geilis! Don’t you dare! I want him to pay for what his son did to me! Please! Please!” Geilis grabbed her wrists and yelled, “Someone get me two milligrams of midazolam!” Footsteps ran down the corridor and Joe slapped a syringe with the sedative into Geilis' hand, "Two milligrams midazolam!" He held Claire's wrists as gently as possible, watching Geilis inject the serum into her muscle.

Jamie sat as if frozen and stared unseeing into the distance. He was crying silently, as he had been since she’d slapped him. Claire snarled even as she was relaxing and her eyes were getting heavy, “Get out of here, Jamie! I never want to see you again!”

Jamie’s heart shattered, but he accepted what she said, whispering, “Aye, Claire,” and slowly pushed himself out of the chair.

He took a minute to collect himself and turned to gaze at her one last time. She was asleep by that time and he fell on his knees, sobbing. He grasped her limp hand and kissed it, her nails ragged and red with his own blood. “Tha mi cho duilich airson na thachair, mo Sorcha. Bidh gaol agam ort gu bràth (I'm so sorry for what happened, my Sorcha. I'll love you forever).”

\-------------------------------------------

[1] “Hit me” is actually an old gambling term. If one is at a blackjack (“21”) table and wants an additional card, one can say to the dealer, “hit me” or hold the card vertically and scrape it twice gently in quick succession on the table towards oneself. It’s sometimes used in the literal sense, or, rarely, to let someone know you’re ready for information. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blackjack#:~:text=Blackjack%2C%20formerly%20also%20Black%20Jack,%2C%20Vingt%2Det%2DUn)


	14. Chapter 14

When Jenny and Fergus were gone, Jamie pulled out his phone and pulled up the latest photos of the remodel, “So, Wee’un, ye’re comin’ home sometime this week, aye?” and Jamie’s smile shamed the sun.

Claire swore inwardly, _I will not cry, I will not cry! Goddammit, I’m crying!_

Jamie paled and his heart fell into his stomach when he saw her start to cry, crystalline tears rolling down her beautiful cheeks,

“Och, mo cridhe, what’s happened? Why the tears?” He grabbed a tissue and started dabbing her face hastily. He couldn’t keep pace with the tears, though. “God, Claire, I’m so sorry, lass!” Please, tell me what happened so I can help ye, aye?” He gathered her hands in his and squeezed lightly, attempting to reassure her.

Claire yanked her hands away from Jamie’s and cried even harder. The violence of their separation started his stomach churning and he hoped he wouldn’t vomit. Trembling, Jamie hoarsely whispered, “Claire, I willna touch ye anymore. Please, please, tell me what I can do. Would ye like me ta leave? I dinna want to when you’re so upset, but I will if that’s what ye want.” Alarmed, he saw her bury her hands into her own curls as she sobbed in despair. She looked at him, eyes reddened with tears.

“You want to know how you can help me, Jamie?” He nodded, frightened at the cold fury in her eyes, “Alright, I’ll tell you how.” Just then, Geilis and Joe came into her room and remained quiet when they heard her speaking so quietly. She looked him straight in the face, “I want my fucking life back! I’m sick of all of this! I’m sick of being in this bed, of not being able to go anywhere, of having to submit to people touching me all the time.” By this point, Claire was screaming. Joe and Geilis were letting her scream. Footsteps could be heard running down the corridor towards her room, but Joe and Geilis told their colleagues to wait, as Claire was simply upset, “I want to do surgeries, cook for my boys and have my leg back to normal. And what I really want, Jamie, is for you to go back in time and ruin your own life saving your son. GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK, YOU BASTARD!” And she slapped him so hard that his cervical spine popped and groaned. She scratched his face, pulled his hair and fisted her tiny knuckles into his shirt, tearing it at the shoulder seams. Throughout her assault, Jamie never touched her nor did he defend himself by moving away. Instead, he sat as if frozen and stared, unseeing, into the distance. He was crying silently, as he had been since she’d slapped him. He sat there and took it all. Geilis yelled, “Claire, stop, or I’ll haveta restrain ye, a nighean!”

Claire screamed and wept, “Geilis! Don’t you dare! I want him to pay for what his son did to me! Please! Please!” 

Geilis grabbed her hands and yelled, “Someone get me two milligrams of midazolam!”

Joe took over holding Claire so she wouldn’t hurt herself as Geilis pulled up her sleeve and wiped her arm. A short sharp burn registered dimly in Claire’s brain and she snarled, “Get out of here, Jamie! I never want to see you again!” The sobbing woman sank back on her pillows as the sedative took effect.

Jamie’s heart shattered, but he accepted what she said, whispering, “Aye, Claire,” and slowly pushed himself out of the chair.

He turned to gaze at her one last time. She was asleep by that time and he fell on his knees, sobbing. He grasped her limp hand and kissed it, her nails red with his own blood. “Tha mi cho duilich airson na thachair, mo Sorcha. Bidh gaol agam ort gu bràth (I'm so sorry for what happened, my Sorcha. I'll love you forever).” Still crying, he walked towards the hallway.

“Joe, stay with Claire, aye? I want ta talk to Jamie, aye?”

“Go do what you gotta do, Red,” he said, as the barest shimmer of tears obscured his hazel eyes.

She whirled around and took off after the crying man. She saw him exit through the automatic doors and doubled her sprint, “Jamie! Jamie!” when he didn’t stop, she put on her best “older sister” voice and thundered in Ghàdlig, “JAMES ALEXANDER MALCOLM MACKENZIE FRASER, STOP RIGHT THERE!” 

The man’s pavement-eating strides finally stopped and he turned slowly, “Aye, Geilis, what d’ye want?”

“Would ye give me jus’ a minute, Jamie?”

“Aye, Geilis. I’ve nowhere ta be,” he looked at her sadly.

“Come on, let’s go get a coffee and pastry and sit outside, aye?”

They went to Glenna’s and sat outside at a small table to talk. Geilis looked up at him carefully,

“Jamie, do ye remember how we met?”

He looked at her, surprised, “Are ye tellin’ me ye’ve forgotten, lass? It was only a month ago, when I came ta visit Claire one afternoon.”

She cleared her throat, “No, t’wasnt. I was an intern in the ER when you came in a couple of years ago, a bhalaich.”

Jamie’s eyebrows reached for the sky, “What? Why didn’ ye say somethin’ when Claire introduced us?”

“Because,” and she took a sip of her coffee to have time to gather her thoughts, “I couldn’a bring that up in front of Claire or Joe, ken. Tha’ was water under tha bridge an’ none of their business. It falls under patient privacy laws; they’re very strict.” She took a bite of her cinnamon snail so she could stop talking for a moment.

Jamie swallowed his mouthful of warm, buttered blueberry scone and fixed Geilis with a curious gaze, “But, how did ye remember me after all this time, lass?”

Geilis’ eybrows rose in incredulity and she snorted, “Is tha’ supposta be a serious question, Fraser? Fer Chrissakes, man, ye’re twelve feet tall and yer shoulders are broader than most doorways,”

Jamie laughed, “Aye, Mam always said we three boys would eat her into the poorhouse.”

“Ye were unconscious when they brought ye in. As ye remember, ye were thrown from the vehicle because yer seatbelt failed when the car ye were in was hit. Ye were thrown from the car and skidded to the curb on yer back.”

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, remembering the pain, waking up confused, frightened and the horror of dressing changes.

Geilis gently squeezed his hand in empathy and Jamie was surprised to see the tough young woman’s eyes shine with tears, “Aye, Jamie, some of the nurses cried when they heard yer screams when yer dressings were changed fer the first time.”

She took a deep breath, “Do ye remember when yer friend Kyle came ta see ye?”

“Nay! Did he?” Jamie wrinkled his brow, “When I came home from hospital, I wondered why I never heard from him. Ta this day, Geilis, I’ve not heard a peep from the man. He was drivin’ the car we were in an’ ran a red light – that’s how we were hit. He didn’a have any lasting injuries,” Jamie murmured.

“Aye, he came ta see ye a couple of days after ye were admitted. I was on shift seein’ ta a patient in the next room when I heard ye bellow, “Mac na galla! Yer stupid decision changed ma life forever! I’ll never be the same!” She took a deep breath for courage, “I ran inta the room and ye had yer hand around his throat, Jamie. He’d crouched in front of ye so ye could see him and ye must ha’ grabbed him. He was dark purple in the face. While I was tryin’ ta loosen yer grip, ye shouted, “Get out, ye bastard! I hate ye, an’ I never want ta see ye again!”

Jamie paled and his hand came up unconsciously to cover his mouth, “Oh, Jesus! Did I permanently injure him?”

“Nay, but if two orderlies hadn’ta forced ye ta release him, in another few seconds he woulda been.”

“It must’ve broken yer heart ta hear Claire tell ye those things, Jamie. It would’ve mine.” Geilis gazed at the surface of her coffee as if to find her next words, “She’s fiercely independent and hates feeling helpless. She’s always been the one ta take care of everyone else an’ she _loves_ doin’ it. Ye should see how she spoils her uncles. She had ta be threatened with suspension by our boss so she’d stay home when she had the flu last winter,” Both redheads shared small smiles. “She’s also tryin’ ta stay strong for everyone around her, including you and Fergus, an’ I can imagine tha’s exhausting in and of itself.” She shifted in her chair, “I’m no’ sayin’ that what she said was right, but please, _hear_ me when I tell ye, ye’re all she’s talked about, Jamie. She has very strong _positive_ feelings fer ye already. She’s also grappling wi’ the possible end of her dream career and long-term aftereffects from the accident.”

Jamie looked like a lost little boy when he quietly asked, “Do ye think I should try ta talk ta her?”

“If ye’ll allow it, I’m goin’ ta suggest that Joe and I talk ta her and explain what went on. I honestly dinna think she’ll remember much, if any, of it.” She looked straight into her companion’s eyes, “I’ve known Claire for a long time, Jamie. We’ve spent time at work tagether, outside o’ work and drained more wine bottles than were on the _Titanic_ ,” and she smiled ruefully. “She’s ma best friend, Jamie. I reckon when we talk to her that she’ll be horrified at what she said. She’s never talked about a man like she does about you, Jamie, and that was even before the canoodle-fest started!” She giggled and a beautiful, deep crimson blossomed from Jamie’s solar plexus all the way up to the tips of his scandalized ears. “Gi’ me yer phone an’ I’ll put all the numbers for the Three Stooges in it, aye?” An’ ye can give me yers, yer Mam’s and Da’s as well. I want ta steal some o’ yer Mam’s cookie recipes!” She thought for a moment, “Oh! Does Fergus have a phone?” Jamie nodded, “Gi’ me his too, in case he canna get ahold of family, I can be a point o’ contact fer him.”

Jamie smiled his first real smile all afternoon, “Aye, that’s generous o’ ye, Geilis, I thank ye. Ah,” forehead wrinkled in thought, Jamie asked, “Who’re the Three Stooges? I know the movie Stooges, but...?”

Geilis laughed outright, “Och, tha’s the name Joe an’ Claire an’ I gave ourselves.”

Jamie laughed and he felt some of his tension melt away, “I thank ye, Geilis, fer yer time an’ yer counsel.”

“Glad to use ma awesome power for good instead o’ evil fer once. It’s a new experience!”

Her bright green eyes glinted mischief as both laughed and went their separate ways.

Jamie headed over to Lallybroch to pick up Fergus. When he arrived, his mother was alone in the house, “Och, mo mhac, good ta see – “ and Ellen’s eyes widened when she saw the swelling and scratches on Jamie’s face. “Good God, son, wha’ happened?”

“Mam, can we go upstairs, please? I’d like ta talk to ye in private.”

“Aye, Jamie, go upstairs. I’ll get some ice an’ meet ye up there.”

Jamie went upstairs to the laird’s bedroom and Ellen joined him a minute later and handed him the icepack and two aspirin. She closed the bedroom door and they sat down on the bed facing one another, “So how’d ye get hurt, son?” Ellen’s worried eyes searched her second son’s face. Of all her children, Jamie was the most accident-prone and there was more than one occasion when Ellen and Brian had prayed that he wouldn’t get hurt as he left the house. She and Brian had taken him to the emergency room many times during his childhood and youth, and almost everything a child could break had been - teeth, nose, fingers, his left leg, all before adulthood.

“Mam, I’ll tell ye if ye promise not ta get angry, aye?”

Ellen swallowed, “Ye have ma word, a bhalaich, go ahead.”

“I went ta visit Claire. Everything seemed fine, but - Mam,” he took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully, “I think something just broke inside her. She screamed at me, saying she wanted me ta pay fer what Fergus did an’ she wanted her life back. She slapped me and scratched ma face. She was incandescent wi’ rage, Mam, an-an” and Jamie’s chin wobbled, “She said she never wanted ta see me again” and a tear glimmered in his eye. “I’ve never witnessed anythin’ like it, no’ even when Jenny an’ I used ta fight as bairns.”

Ellen’s shocked look didn’t surprise Jamie at all. His sister and he would get into some real knock-down drag-out fights as children, but neither dared physically hurt each other. “Oh, Son, I’m so sorry that happened. Have ye decided if ye want ta try to talk ta her again, or do ye just want ta let it be?”

“Weel, her best friend, Geilis, ran after me and we had a coffee and talked. She asked me when we’d first met. O’ course, I looked at her like she was barmy, because I thought it was a couple of days after Claire was admitted, but she was working in the ER when I was brought in.” She told me I just didn’a remember that I did essentially the same thing ta Kyle a couple of days after my accident. He’d come ta visit me an’ I screamed at him he’d ruined my life an’ I never wanted ta see him again. When Geilis ran inta ma room, I had one hand around his throat.’ Jamie swallowed the lump in his throat and continued in a broken whisper, “I was so doped up I didn’a recall it a’tall. I could’a injured,” and he shuddered, “killed him, Mam.”

“But ye didn’t, Jamie. From what I’ve seen o’ Claire, that behavior was absolutely atypical. Ye know I’m good at reading people an’ nothing I got from Claire’s energy was anything to cause concern. No, it wasn’t right or fair wha’ she did, but it may be more understandable in light of the information ye now have. It’s up ta ye how ye handle it, son. Do what’s right for you and listen to yer heart, aye?” Ellen gave her son a hug and tugged on his hand, “Alrigh’, son, it’s time for ‘Makeup for Dummies 101.’ She smiled encouragingly at him when she took in his confused expression. “Aye, I’m goin’ ta help ye camouflage these marks so ye don’ haveta talk about ‘em, an’ I’ll send ye home wi’ some so ye can conceal them until they’re healed, aye? Come wi’ me ta the loo an’ I’ll fix ye right up.”

Jamie followed Ellen into the bathroom and sat on the toilet so she could reach his face. She gently cleaned it with a warm washcloth and soap, careful not to disturb any developing scabs. She quietly explained everything she did so that Jamie could replicate it on his own. When she was satisfied, she let him look. Jamie was amazed – he could barely find any of the scratches and Mam had blended the cover-up so skillfully that he wouldn’t be able to tell he’d been slapped if he didn’t know. She sent him downstairs with a new bottle of concealer, explaining to him that he always needed to wash his hands thoroughly before using it _very sparingly_ and that the little sponges she put in his bag were the best way to blend it in. 

The next morning at the hospital, Claire woke up early and texted Joe and Geilis to come and see her.

She put her phone on her lap and glanced at her fingernails – what was underneath them? She took a metal nail file from her manicure set and scraped the material out. She rubbed it between her fingers and peered at it under the bright task lamp, What the hell? This looks like dried blood! What the fuck? Claire racked her brain but couldn’t think if why she would have dried blood under her fingernails. She hurriedly checked her own skin for scabs or bug bites. Nothing. Geilis and Joe came in and brought her a large coffee from Glenna’s and they sat down and had coffee together. Claire couldn’t stop wondering where that blood had come from. Joe spoke up, “Something on your mind, CB? You seem distracted.”

“Um, yes, this might seem ridiculous, but I have dried blood under my fingernails and I have no idea how it got there.” She looked at her friends, utterly confused, “Do y’all have any clue what may have happened?”

Both friends shot each other less-than-clandestine looks and Claire noticed immediately, “Moe (Geilis)! Larry (Joe)! You both look guilty, like you got caught stealing a pie left on a windowsill to cool! What happened?”

“Ok, Curly, I’m giving it to ya straight,” Joe said warningly, “Yesterday Jamie came by to visit,”

“Ye-e-e-s? A -n-n-n-d?” Claire drawled, flapping her hands in a circular motion to have Joe get to the point.

“Everything was going fine, I guess. Geilis was in the next room and I was getting stuff in the supply closet down the hall when you started screaming at Jamie.” 

Claire’s face turned completely red and then drained of all color, “What?” She looked horrified, “Why on Earth would I scream at him?”

“Weel, if ye shut yer gob fer one millisecond, we’ll tell ye, aye?”

Claire snorted, “I haven’t got all day, woman, out with it!”

Geilis rolled her eyes, “We don’t know what happened, really, but Jamie said ye started cryin’ and sayin’ that what ye really wanted was to have yer life back an’ fer him ta pay fer what Fergus did to ye.” Geilis took a deep breath, “An’ ye slapped him and scratched his face ta hell an’ back.”

Claire felt like she’d been punched in the heart and the gut simultaneously, “That’s not funny, you guys. Please tell me I did NOT do that,” She searched their faces desperately for a sign that they were taking the mickey out of her[1], “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick,” she croaked hoarsely.

Joe grabbed an emesis tray[2] and held it out to Claire. She frantically grabbed it, Geilis jumped up and held her hair back and Claire vomited her early breakfast and coffee into the tray.

When Claire was sure she wasn’t going to be sick again, Geilis quipped, “Just like too many Fridays at the Bull and Bear during school, eh?” and she and Joe helped her clean up.

After they’d gotten her to drink some water and eat a couple of Saltines,[3] the dark-haired woman settled back on her pillows and promptly burst into tears, “Oh, my God, he must hate me! Why did I do that? I don’t even remember it!”

“Hen, listen ta me. I think ye broke down because of the stress ye’re under. Ye’re cooped up here, ye’re facing the possible end of yer career, possible permanent injury and months of rehab, plus, we all know ye’re tryin’ ta make the best o’ this steamin’ shitpile fer yerself an’ everyone else. It would throw anybody.”

Joe took Claire’s hands in his, swallowing them up in a field of smooth chocolate-brown gentleness,

“Hon, I know how you feel about Jamie. God knows you’ve yammered on and on and _on_ about him and that he’s the best thing since sliced bread!”

Claire chuckled, “Um, yeah, so? I’m a woman who knows what she likes! You can’t put a T-bone in front of a hungry woman and expect her not to enjoy it, or?” She arched an eyebrow at Joe, who grinned.

“So what would ye like ta do?”

“Well, first and foremost, I need to apologize to Jamie. Regardless of what happens afterwards, I need to face him.” She thought for a moment, “Shit! I don’t have his cellphone number!”

“But I do, Curly, let me talk to him, alright? Man-to-man, kind of smooth out the path, as it were. After that, everything is up to you.”

Claire blinked and gave Joe a grateful look, “Thanks, Joe.”

“Alright, I’m going to make that call. I’ll be right back.”

Joe stepped into his office and got himself a mineral water. He cracked it open and dialed Jamie’s number, “Jamie?”

“Joe! How can I help ye?”

“Well, if you’re amenable, Claire would like to see you. I – “

“WHEN?”

“Now hold your horses, man. I need to tell you a couple of things first, okay?”

Jamie took a breath and forced himself to listen to what Joe was saying, “Aye, go ahead.”

Joe swallowed some water, “Ok. So, Claire didn’t remember any part of yesterday. She found your dried blood under her fingernails and was understandably confused. We told her the full story, Jamie. She was so horrified by what she’d done she was sick to her stomach, man. And she compared you to her own personal T-bone. And the woman likes her steak, believe me.”

Jamie was happy that Joe couldn’t see his embarrassment climbing up his face like an inferno from hell. _She compared me to a steak? WTF?_ “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. How is she right now?”

“She’s better but she’s been crying and is afraid you won’t want to see her. If you do decide to see her, please take it easy with her, okay?”

“I will, Joe. I’ll abide by whatever she says. When can I see her?”

“She’d like to see you as soon as possible.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, Joe. Thanks for calling.”

Before Joe could even say goodbye, the phone was silent.

Jamie grabbed his keys and wallet from Claire’s kitchen counter and yelled, “Da, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Where ye goin’, mo mhac?”

“Ta see Claire.”

“Ah, ok.” Brian wasn’t surprised. His wife had filled him in on what had happened and he hoped they could work it out.

Jamie ran to his truck and fifteen minutes later he was at the hospital, running to Claire’s room.

The door was closed, so he knocked gently.

“Come in,” answered Claire.

Jamie stepped into the room and closed the door. He strode quickly to her bed, alarmed to see her burst into tears and turn her face away from him,

“Claire? Please look at me, darlin’.” He spoke quietly and handed her a tissue that was immediately crumpled into a white-knuckled fist.

She turned slowly to face him and sobbed, “I can’t believe you came after what I did! Oh, Jamie, I am profoundly sorry for hurting you!” Hot tears dripped down her face, “I wouldn’t blame you if you brought charges and never wanted to see me again!” She reached out for his hand but then snatched her hand back, “Oh, God, I’m sorry, I had no right to do that, please forgive me.”

“Claire, may I touch ye?”

His gentle tone made her bottom lip quake and she said in a tiny voice, “yes.”

Jamie took both of her hands in his and kissed her knuckles and turned her hands over. He straightened her fingers tenderly and removed the tissue, “Well, lass, I think ye killed it dead, alright.”

Despite her upset, Claire smiled. When Jamie saw her smile, he felt like he’d climbed Annapurna[4] in one mighty leap and his answering smile reflected it.

Claire looked into his steady gaze and asked what she wanted to know most of all, “Jamie, may I kiss you?”

“Oh, aye, lass, please, help yerself,” and Jamie’s eyes twinkled.

Claire advanced slowly on the redhead and took his face very gently in her hands. She kissed him on his lips so carefully Jamie thought he might die from wanting more. He realized, though, that Claire needed to do this at her own pace so she could feel in control of one thing in her life right now, so he relaxed into the kiss and sank his graceful fingers into her hair. He rumbled in pleasure and was answered by her sigh of contentment as she moved her hands down to his waist and massaged him lightly. Her kiss had become more insistent and she darted her tongue out and asked for entry into his mouth. He granted it and she sucked on his tongue gently, eliciting a moan from him. The kiss intensified until Jamie’s cock awoke and Claire’s regrettably sensible underwear was soaked. Their tongues battled each other in an erotic dance for two. Claire’s hands found their way under Jamie’s shirt and he sighed when she caressed his chest and pulled lightly on his nipples, occasionally scraping them with her fingernails. He smiled into her mouth and dragged his fingers up her thighs and ghosted them between her parted legs, stopping to caress and squeeze her inner thighs. He brushed his fingers over her nether lips, where he felt her wet answer to his efforts. She walked her hands out of his shirt, sank her fingers into his curls and pulled his head back. Jamie thought he would come in his jeans if she kept on with that and squeaked in alarm. He, in turn, fisted her curls and pulled her head back. Kiss broken, they stared at each other, stunned by the energy they’d created.

After they’d both come down again and cooled down with a bit of water, Jamie said, very carefully,  
“Claire, I’d like ta address what ye said yesterday if ye dinna mind.”

Her face caved into a shadow of what it’d been. She swallowed hard and said, “Yes, I understand that. Please go ahead.”

“When I left yesterday, ye were asleep. Geilis caught up ta me an’ we went to talk. She asked me if I remembered when we first met. I said of course I did, it was when you came to the hospital. She corrected me and told me she remembered me from my last admittance to the ER, about two years ago.” He took a calming breath and continued, “She reminded me that I’d been admitted for a car accident.” Claire’s face showed shock and sadness and Jamie gathered a hand in his, “My friend Kyle was driving us back from the gym an’ he ran a red. We were hit so hard that my seatbelt failed and I was thrown from the car. Geilis said that Kyle came to see me a couple of days later, and,” Jamie studied their hands, “Evidently I started screaming at him that he was a mac na galla and had ruined my life,” and Jamie’s lip trembled as he looked at Claire, “I grabbed him by the throat, said I hated him and never wanted to see him again. Geilis heard me screaming at him and tried to pry my hand off his throat, but she had to get help. If the orderlies hadn’t pulled me off Kyle, I would have at least permanently injured him." He let go of her hand and she whimpered softly at the loss of touch, “I’m no’ goin’ anywhere, lass. I want ta show ye somethin’,” and Jamie turned away from Claire so all she could see was his back and pulled his T-shirt completely off. She gasped and murmured, “Oh Jamie, do they hurt?”

He turned his head so she could hear him, “Nay lass, not now. Ye see, Claire? I reacted ta Kyle as ye did ta me. An’ I didn’a remember it at all because I was sedated. An’ you have been, too. These are my remnants of my accident, just as you may have yers.” He turned to face her, “An’ whatever we decide about bein’ friends or possibly more, it will never be because I feel obligated to ye or guilt because of the accident, do ye hear me, lass? It’ll be because we both want the relationship, whatever shape it takes. Agreed?”

Jamie slipped his index finger underneath her chin and lifted it so she was gazing into his eyes, “Agreed,” she whispered.

[1] “Take the mickey” out of someone is to tease them or to make fun of them.

[2] An emesis tray is kidney shaped and is used in hospitals to contain emesis, or vomit

[3] https://www.walmart.com/ip/Premium-Original-Saltine-Crackers-16-oz/10292621

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annapurna_Massif

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Asks!
> 
> Do you want this story to continue? Or leave it here? Please let me know in the comments!
> 
> Update, really late, on 02/03/21:  
> Aaaand, once again, my lovelies, the "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!" crowd has it! The story shall continue!  
> I'm so proud of all my little greedies - I've raised you right!  
> Thank you to everyone who voted and commented. Please keep your comments and ideas coming!


	15. Chapter 15

Ok so this is a really short short short chapter; the nap gremlins have my number and are insisting I follow them into dreamland, the little freaks... I’m not sure what J and C want to do next, but I’ll let you know when I find out!

Xx Distracted

 _It’s been a week_ , Claire thought. _Frank said maybe another week and then I can start rehab_. _But I haven’t heard from him. I hope I’m still on track for that_. Wistfully, Claire realized how unconscious she’d been about being able to walk at all. The weeks in the hospital had shown her what a privilege mobility was. A bit discouraged, Claire snuggled the blanket right up to her chin so she could take a midmorning nap, yawning. Her cheeks burned in shame as she remembered what Joe and Geilis had told her about her breakdown, _never again_ , she thought. I will never, ever raise my hand to Jamie in anger again, she promised herself. Just as sleep was beginning to weave its enticing web over her, there was a knock at the door. Grunting, she sat up and called, “Come in.”

Frank entered with a gaggle of residents again, “Hello, Claire, how’s it going today?”

“Oh, I’m okay, Frank, how are you? Hello, everyone,” she murmured. 

The residents nodded politely and Frank got right down to business, “So, Claire, your hip and leg are doing wonderfully. Your latest scans show you can start rehab today!”

Claire’s face broke out into a blinding smile and she crowed, “Yesssss! Finally!” He chuckled and winked at her. He was standing slightly in front of the residents; they couldn’t see his wink – he had a reputation as the scary Dr. Randall to protect in front of residents, after all. 

“Okay, so we have the first session starting at two p.m. We’ll see how you do today and adjust accordingly. I know you want to get out of here, but, please, don’t push yourself too hard!”

“Alright, Frank, I won’t, I promise!” Claire squealed again and grabbed her phone. She called Lamb and Firouz and told them the good news. “Och, mo charaid, that’s wonderful news!” Claire could practically hear Lamb’s smile in his voice.

“Habibi, I am proud of you,” called Firouz. “May we tell the work crew?”

“Oh, yes, and then I’d like to speak to Jamie, if he has time, please.”

Lamb walked the phone into the house and put the phone on speaker and asked for quiet. The men put down their tools, “Claire’s on the line and her rehab will start today!”

A rousing cheer was heard and Claire blushed apple-red.

Jamie smiled like he’d been blessed by the Virgin herself and excused himself to take the call in private,

“WeeUn?”

“Jamie, did you hear? I get to start rehab today! It’s the first step to getting home and getting my independence back!”

Jamie grinned so widely his face hurt, “Aye, I did, Claire. I’m so glad fer ye. Have a good time and listen to the physio, aye? Dinna let me hear you’re not doin’ what ye’re suppos’ta.”

Claire cocked an eyebrow, “Or what, _Master_ Fraser?”

“Dinna defy me, Claire. Tha’s the only warnin’ ye’ll get.” And Jamie laughed long and loud at the direction the conversation had taken.

Claire, too, burst out laughing and snorted, “You are the most ridiculous creature ever, Fraser!”

Jamie shot right back, “Tha’s certainly the pot callin’ the kettle black!” They talked a few minutes longer until Claire screwed her courage to the sticking place[1] and said quietly, “Jamie, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Yes? Are ye braw, Claire?” Jamie was worried now. He told himself to remember to breathe and not interrupt her.

“Yes, sugar,” and Jamie’s stomach twisted in pleasure at the endearment, “I’m okay, thank you. I just want to reiterate to you that I will never hit you in anger ever again. I know I’m lucky that you’re even still talking to me after what I did, drugged or no. I’ve decided that I need to talk to a counselor to help me learn how to live with this sudden change in my life and I’m going to talk to Joe and Geilis about hooking me up with someone here while I’m an inpatient and help me find someone when I go home.”

“I’m happy you want ta get counseling, Claire. I thought about it after we parted an’ I was going to bring up the possibility to you. Your decision about getting counseling wouldn’t have changed how I feel about ye, but if ye’d decided not ta pursue it, I woulda wanted ta be simple friends until I felt like I could trust yer judgement again.” He ran his hand over the back of his slightly sweaty, gritty neck, “Do ye understand what I verra clumsily expressed, a nighean?”

Claire took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose to try to relieve the sting of tears gathering in her eyes. _See how close you came to ruining a wonderful thing?_ She scolded herself.

“It wasn’t clumsy, honey. Thank you for being strong enough to be brutally honest with me. I’m not a person who deals well with subtlety. I’m going to ask you always to be forthright and honest with me, and I promise you the same.”

“Aye, Claire. We may not like what the other says, all the time. But honesty is necessary for me, too. Thank ye fer that.” Jamie sighed in relief. Asking for honesty was something he always did but with some of the women he’d dated, they’d thought immediately that he didn’t trust them and it even led to a breakup once.

“You’re welcome.” Claire heard squeaking shoes and looked to the door, “Oh, Jamie, here’s someone to take me to rehab, I need to go. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Yes, we’ll talk later, mo cridhe. Remember ma warnin’, though, ye wee besom!”

Jamie and Claire ended the call quickly and she greeted the orderly who was to take her to physical therapy. He helped her get into the chair and off they went.

[1] “screw your courage to the sticking place” is a partial quote from Shakespeare’s _MacBeth_


	16. Chapter 16

The orderly wheeled Claire into rehab and she was greeted by Tom Christie, a muscly 6’3” (190.5 cm) man with black hair, green eyes and a cheerful attitude, “Ye’re Claire, then?”

“Yep, that’s me. And you are?”

“I’m Tom, yer physio. Welcome,” he said, shaking her hand carefully.

“Thanks, Tom. We’re actually colleagues; I was slated to join staff here after my residency was over but my accident happened before I could start my work as a surgeon.”

Tom blanched a little, “Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry to hear that, Claire. Say, I notice an unusual accent for these parts. May I ask where ye’re from?”

Claire smiled, “You may. I was born and raised in northern Alabama by my mum, an Aberdeen native, and an American father. I moved here after they died a few years back.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Claire.” She thanked him for his caring and he continued, “Alright, shall we begin? I know about your injuries and what you’re here to accomplish. It won’t be easy, but I’m sure you’ll do whatever it takes to attain your goals. Dr. Randall said that you healed faster than normal and that’s what we like to see. Some of this will be uncomfortable but we don’t want you in pain, so if something I have you do is painful, please tell me, alright?”

Claire smiled, “okay, no problem. I don’t have a problem opening my yap,” and a smile crinkled at her eyes.

Tom’s eyebrows raised and he laughed out loud.

An hour later, Claire was dripping in sweat, felt totally icky and just wanted a sponge bath. The nurse helped her into bed and gave her a sponge bath and gave her a fresh gown, “Laoghire, thank you so much, I feel so much better!”

“Aye, Claire, I know how they put you through the wringer down there, good on ye fer not givin’ up.”

A knock was heard on the door and Geilis walked in with Joe. They greeted Claire and she could immediately tell something was up; the air was charged with some weird, lopsided energy,

“Alright, you two, what’s up?”

“Hen, Joe and I think it would be a good idea for you to see a counselor to help you with this new phase in your life,”

Joe joined in, “Claire, you’ve had a lot to handle in a very short amount of time. Slapping Jamie was a symptom, something I never thought I’d see from you. Please consider it, alright?”

Claire took a deep breath and looked into the eyes of two of her most beloved people, their faces and eyes pleading with her, emerald green and dark chocolate brown.

“I agree. I talked to Jamie about it and he thought counseling was necessary, as do I. I will never, ever, hit him in anger again, y’all. I promise. I am so ashamed of myself that even if Jamie hadn’t decided to keep talking to me, I would have gone for the counseling anyway.”

“Baby Girl, Mama Hen and I are so proud of you,” chuckled Joe. “You’ve gone and done it again, beaten us to the punch.”

“Aye, Curly. Here’s the number of the counseling department here. Ye can call them and schedule an appointment. The therapist will come to you since you have a private room.”

Joe got a page and had to run off, so Geilis and Claire had some girl-time together.

“Gone on any interesting dates I should know about, Duncan?”

“No, hen, none a t’all. I’ve been too tired and it’s not fun, going to bars and chattin’ up blokes wi’out you ta guard my right, ken?” Geilis smiled a bit sadly, “I’m so sorry this happened to ye, Claire. I miss the three of us goin’ out tagether somethin’ awful.”

Claire commiserated, “I know, right? As soon as this is over, we three are going to go out on the town and get fully blotto, Ubering all over to the best gin joints in town, my treat!” She squeezed her friend’s delicate hand gently.

“Speaking of treats, how’s Ginger Biscuit treatin’ ye?”

“His name is Gingersnap, Satan, get it right!” the women giggled and Claire continued, “Is treating me _very_ well, better than I deserve!” A shadow crossed the brunette’s face,

“Hen? What is it?”

Claire’s chin wobbled and a lone tear streaked out of her eye, “He said that if I hadn’t agreed to counseling on my own he would have had to learn to trust my judgement again, Geilis. He broke my heart when he said that.”

Geilis rubbed her upper arm soothingly, “Aye, I’m sure he did, Claire.”

“But, I know he was right to be honest with me, Geil, as much as it sucked. I’d rather have him break my heart with the truth than break my heart with lies and secret-keeping, you know what I mean?”

“Aye, Claire, Gingersnap is a good’un. Hang onta him, aye?” Geilis embraced Claire until she felt her friend relax again. “It’s getting late, a nighean. I’m headin’ home. I’ll see ye in a couple of days, aye?”

Claire smiled gently, “Yep, love. Have a good night. I love you.”

Geilis got off the bed and turned around again, “I love ye too, hen,” and blew her friend a kiss at the door.

Over the next few days, Claire’s experiences at therapy repeated themselves – she would work out with Tom for an hour and return to her room dripping with exertion. One day Geilis even came in to help her with a sponge bath. As the women were talking, Claire ventured, “Babe, have you ever heard rumors about Tom Christie?”

Geilis wrung out the sponge she was using to bathe Claire and wrinkled her nose, “Rumors? What type of rumors?”

“Well, I may be imagining things, but it seems like Tom’s doing things to prolong physical contact with me. I caught him staring at my ass on Tuesday. On Thursday, his finger “accidentally” brushed against my boob, I thought. But it was so light, I thought maybe I was imagining it and just paranoid.” She looked beseechingly at her friend, “Please tell me I’m mistaken and a nutcase, Geil. I don’t have the headspace to deal with this horseshit right now, you know?”

Geilis thought for a moment, nay, hen, I’ve never heard anythin’ about Christie. I’ll make a few discreet enquiries around. Don’t worry, I’ll keep yer name outta it.”

Claire smiled gratefully, “Okay, thanks, Geil. I appreciate it.”

Geil looked at her tiny friend straight-on, “Still, though, Claire, if this type of shite continues, ye need ta document it for HR. It’s sexual harassment in any case. If ye were a regular civilian an’ he did this, just a _whisper_ of this kind of impropriety might be enough to go inta his record. Write down everything ye remember, dates, times, if there was anyone else in the room. I’ll bring ye a pad and a couple o’ pens, aye?”

“Oh, I don’t need a couple of pens – “ Claire stopped and blushed at Geilis’ arched eyebrow and demanded, “What?”

“Oh, no, Curly, I dinna want ta hear anythin’ about ye not needing two pens. We all know that yer purse and pockets are black holes fer pens! Why d’ye think the nurses’ station started labeling all their pens?”

Claire blushed twelve shades of embarrassment, “Because of me?” she squeaked in shock.

Geilis giggled, “Aye, ye little felon. Alrigh’, love, I’ll be righ’ back, aye?”

Claire smiled and shouted after her, “You’ll never prove it was me, Duncan!” Claire heard an amused snort as her friend sailed out of the room.

Claire was just giggling to herself about Geilis when a knock sounded on the door,

“Miss Beauchamp?”

Claire turned and saw a middle-aged woman at the door. She wore chunky low heels, a conservative black skirt and pale-pink sweater set, set off by the obligatory pearl strand and matching earrings.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

“My name is Dr. Graham, I’m a psychiatrist, from counseling services. I was told ye’d like ta talk to someone about some changes in yer life. Is that right?”

“Yes, Dr. Graham.” Claire fidgeted with the blanket. 

“Why don’ ye tell me what happened to cause ye ta be admitted ta hospital in the first place, eh?”

“I pulled a little boy out of the way of a drunk driver and the driver hit me. I may be facing a permanent limp as well as the end of my career here, which was to start the week after the accident. I got the open general surgery position.”

Dr. Graham’s eyes softened sympathetically, “Oh, dear. I heard about your accident. I’m so sorry, Miss Beauchamp.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Graham. I didn’t even realize what I was doing at the time. I was getting ready to cross the street and Fergus was standing beside me at the corner. Well, he saw his grandparents across the street. He ran into the street just as a drunk driver was speeding towards him. His father tried to get to him but couldn’t in time. I didn’t even consciously think anything at all. All I heard was a voice in my head saying, “Save the baby!” I was able to grab Fergus and hand him off to his grandda, who’d run into the street trying to catch him as well. I tried to roll out of the way of the car but it caught me and eventually came to a stop on top of my pelvis and leg.”

Dr. Graham’s face drained of blood and she looked rather faint for a second until she was able to collect herself, “My goodness, what a brave thing to do!”

“Fergus’ father, Jamie, pulled the driver out of the car and backed it off me and someone called emergency services. I’ve been here ever since.”

“Jamie came to say thank you a day later and we’ve been, uh,” and Claire turned beet-red and couldn’t look at the doctor, “uh, getting to know each other, you could say.”

Dr. Graham smiled, “You mentioned possibly having permanent injuries from the accident, did you not?”

“Yes. The surgeon said that I would have a slight but permanent limp and he didn’t know if I’d be able to even start as a surgeon when my rehab is over.”

“And how have you been trying to square that with the future that lay before you previous to the accident?”

Claire sighed tiredly, “Well, honestly, doctor, I haven’t. I’ve been avoiding it. This job was my dream, not least because two of my best friends got hired right out of residency as I was. Also, I live with and take care of my uncle and his husband and I’ve been trying to, well, encourage people to believe that I’m okay with what’s happened when obviously, I’m not.” She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled through her mouth slowly. 

“Do you think that was the wrong thing to do?” Dr. Graham cocked her head at Claire and Claire couldn’t help thinking of the birds who gathered on the patio in the back garden for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day.

“Wrong?” Claire looked a bit puzzled, “No. I guess it’s part of my healer nature, you know what I mean? I mean, we’re both MDs. You know about developing a “game face.” We all have one, right?

Dr. Graham smiled, “Yes, we all do. And we try to cushion the blow for patients and their loved ones because it’s part of our job. But this had nothing to do with your job, Claire. This happened to Claire Beauchamp, private citizen, not in your capacity as a surgeon. I don’t know if you’ve ever dealt with traumatic injury to your own body like this before.” Claire shook her head slowly. “You had no frame of reference for dealing with this on a deeply personal level, so you reverted to your surgeon’s training. That training, with its inherent detachedness, ‘shake-it-off-and-move-on’ coping mechanism is wonderful and necessary when applied to other people but may not have served you well when managing your own personal situation.”

Surprised at this fresh perspective, Claire managed to meet Dr. Graham’s eye for the first time since they’d introduced themselves earlier.

“Well, that makes sense to me.” She studied her hands again, “And yes, I have been trying to make everything seem a-ok for everyone else, especially my uncles and Jamie, Fergus’ father. When he came to see me, he burst into tears trying to express his gratitude for what I’d unconsciously done. It wasn’t like I stood there and said, ‘I’m going to save that kid’; I just did it. No idea how my feet even started moving, to be honest. There is one thing I haven’t told you, though and it’s humiliating and important.”

She bravely looked the doctor in the eye and said, “The surgeon had said that I could probably go home for a week to recuperate. But then he came in and said that my healing had progressed to the point where it was better to have me stay as an inpatient and not go home so I could start on rehab immediately. Jamie came to see me that day and mentioned going home that week. And I fucking lost my shit. I started crying, then screaming at him, that I wanted my life back and for him to go back in time and ruin his life saving his son.”

Dr. Graham didn’t look surprised or judgmental – to Claire’s relief, she had the same calm look on her face as if someone had asked her the time of day.

Dr. Graham could tell that there was something looming just under the surface and it would take Claire time to let it out, so she just put her game face on and waited patiently.

After a few minutes, Claire continued, “And not only did I scream and yell at him, I called him a bastard, slapped him and scratched up his face.” Tears were rolling down Claire’s cheeks unchecked, meeting their deaths in the cotton of her hospital gown. “And do you know what he did in response, Dr. Graham?”

“No, Claire, I don’t. Will you tell me?”

“Nothing. He did nothing. I’m 5’4 (162 cm). Jamie is a full foot (30 cm) taller than I am and outweighs me by at least 100 pounds (45kg), Dr. Graham. He must have a 12-pack on his abdomen and has a jawline that could cut glass. He’s a true Viking throwback, with curly red hair and tropical-ocean blue eyes. His muscles have muscles and his fists are the size of cauliflowers. He’s also the gentlest person I know. He sat there and took all the abuse from me. He didn’t say a word, move out of reach or lift a finger to stop me. He cried, though, after I slapped him. That’s what Geilis and Joe told me later. A-and then, I screamed at him to leave and that I never wanted to see him again. I was so hysterical that Joe had to restrain me so Geilis could administer a sedative.” Claire thought she would stop talking then, but the words poured out of her like a cataract of water over a dam, “I have never, ever hit another person in anger, Doctor. No matter how angry I got. But I hit him as hard as I could and I’m ashamed of myself.”

“It’s understandable that ye’d feel shame, Claire. It’s obvious to me that ye’re a carin’ person in any case. Added to that, your Hippocratic Oath has a way of seeping into every part of your life, really. Have ye talked to Jamie since the incident?”

Claire sighed, “I have. He came to visit and said that he’d thought about what happened and wanted me to consider counseling. He said,” and she swallowed the rock in her throat, “If I didn’t go to counseling, his feelings for me wouldn’t change, but he’d keep our relationship as friends-only until he felt he could trust my judgment again.” Claire looked up at Dr. Graham, who saw unshed tears shining in her intense amber eyes, “And that really hurt, but I knew he was right to say it, as much as I hated hearing it.”

“Miss Beauchamp, what would you say if I came every other day so we could talk about what happened and hopefully work together on some coping strategies for your stay here as well as a plan for when ye’re discharged. I have my own practice here at the hospital, so if ye decide ye’d like ta continue seein’ me after ye’re discharged, we can do that, too.”

Claire was relieved that someone else was steering this car, “Yes, that sounds like a good plan, thank you, Doctor Graham. So I’ll see you on Thursday?”

Dr. Graham smiled, “Yes, Miss Beauchamp, I’ll see you then.” The elegant woman stood from her chair and disappeared as quietly as she’d come.

After the good doctor took her leave, Claire’s thoughts combed through the events of the last few days. One thing in particular stood out. _I told Geilis and Joe that I’d never hit Jamie in anger again._ Wearily, she chewed on that for a moment. _Why hadn’t I simply said I’d never hit him again?_ She went further back in her memories and was finally in the sun-drenched garden with Jamie. _Oh! Oh, right,_ she thought. _I pulled his hair as a joke and he liked it_... Claire blushed at the thought of dominating a man so much bigger than she. _Well, I’ve never done it before, but if that’s what floats his boat, there’s a first time for everything, right?_ and fell asleep soon afterward.

A couple of minutes later, Laoghire came in with a plastic tub, washcloths, a towel, shampoo, conditioner and soap, “Hiya, Claire, how are ye today?”

“Oh, Laoghire, I’m fine, and you?”

“Oh, aye, I’m well, Claire, thank ye fer askin’. I’m here ta give ye a sponge bath and wash yer hair, aye?”

“Oh, Laoghire, that sounds wonderful, thank you,” Claire smiled gratefully. Laoghire closed the door to the room and came back to Claire.

“Here, let’s lower the head of the bed and get yer gown off. I’ll wash ye taday an’ then cover yer torso and chest with a towel when we wash yer hair, aye?”

Laoghire went and filled the plastic tub with very warm water and set it on the table. She pulled the curtain around for privacy and just then, Claire heard muffled steps in the corridor just as Laoghire dunked a washcloth in the very warm water and squeezed some moisturizing body wash on it. She stroked it underneath Claire’s hair on the back of her neck, “Ohhh, God, that feels heavenly!”

Jamie’s cock stiffened as he heard her moan and he quickly shifted his jacket to drape in front of his crotch. He cleared his throat and knocked.

“One second, Claire.” Laoghire put on her stern face and opened the door and stepped outside into the corridor, “Sir, ye’ll haveta come back in about fifteen minutes, aye?”

“Is Claire alrigh’?”

Laoghire smiled at the incredibly handsome redhead, “Oh, aye, she’s braw. Dinna fash. I’ll be washin’ her hair in about 15 minutes and ye can come back then, aye? I’m Laoghire MacKenzie, a nurse on this floor. And ye are?”

Jamie looked down at the blue-eyed blonde with the pale skin and immediately thought of Rupert MacKenzie; she was his type, for sure. “Jamie Fraser, Ma’am, a friend of Claire’s. I’m pleased ta know ye.”

“Well, she’ll be presentable in about fifteen minutes, as I said. I’ll let her know ye stopped by and will be back soon, alrigh’?”

Jamie smiled, “Aye, thank ye, Nurse MacKenzie, I appreciate it. Please tell Claire I’ll nip down an’ get us coffee.” He arched an eyebrow, “Would ye like somethin’?”

Laoghire blushed, “Och, nay, but thank ye all the same, Mr. Fraser.”

“It’s Jamie, Nurse MacKenzie.”

She pinked and stuttered, “P-please, call me Laoghire.”

He smiled crookedly, “Aye, Laoghire. I’ll be back presently.”

Jamie brought the coffees and enough cookies for the three of them. Laoghire was just getting ready to wash Claire’s hair. “Laoghire, could I watch ye? Or would I disturb yer work?”

“Nay, Jamie, it may be better if ye get on the other side of Claire so ye can see how I’m massaging her scalp.”

Laoghire brought her equipment over and poured warm water over Claire’s head, pulling a groan from the brunette that in turn, made Jamie’s wame flip like a warm pancake on a griddle.

Jamie watched Laoghire for a minute and asked, “Laoghire, if Claire’s okay with it, could I gi’ it a try, please?”

Laoghire looked up, surprised, “Why, sure enough, Jamie. Claire? What do you say?”

Just the thought of Jamie massaging her scalp took Claire’s breath away and her voice came out squeaky and scratched like an abused 45, “Uh, sure. Are you sure you want to try that, Jamie? You may get wet, you know. Laoghire, letting him wash my hair won’t cause issues for you, or?”

“No, no a’tall. Family members help patients all the time. Jamie, come over here. I’ll move and watch ye for a minute an’ I’ll show ye how ta pour the water so it drains inta that bucket there.” Laoghire offered. She and Jamie changed places and she pushed his fingers gently into her hair. “Aye, tha’s it. He smiled at her and she was lost for a moment. _Och, Claire’s a lucky lass_ , she thought to herself. She regained her professionalism, though, and supervised Jamie for a minute, smiling when she saw Claire biting her bottom lip _hard._ She winked down at Claire and left the two of them alone, “Just push the call button when ye’re done, Jamie, aye?” Someone will come and clear everything away for ye.” She glanced at the couple before she slipped the door closed. They were in their own world and didn’t even hear her leave – Claire’s hushed tones and Jamie’s muted rumble were all that could be heard in the room besides the swish-swish-trickle of the water.

Claire groaned in pleasure as Jamie’s strong fingers stroked, scratched and pulled shampoo gently through her curls.

For his part, Jamie saw exactly when Claire relaxed. Her shoulders actually dropped and she took a long, cleansing breath that pushed her beautiful breasts towards his eyes, nearly black with want. He did not stop his work though. He pulled her hair slightly and rested her skull in his hand on the fleshy part of his hands so he’d be sure to clean her hair down to the root. She sighed and whispered, “Oh, Jamie, you’re making me feel like a hot buttered noodle,” as she felt his fingers working tiny circles on her scalp. He rinsed the shampoo and applied conditioner and spent a good few minutes working it gently into her curls. She moaned, “Will you come and do that for me every day, Fraser?” Jamie cleared his throat nervously,

“Nay, ye know I canna, a leannan.” He pouted a little but then his handsome face brightened, “But I can do this, Claire.”

He smiled crookedly at her and carefully bent down and ghosted his lips over hers. Of course, Claire couldn’t keep completely still and arched her back into the kiss.

“Oh, fuck me!” Jamie swore softly, watching her beautiful body stretch and tremble ever-so-slightly.

Wee’un, ye have ta stop with yer little movements an’ noises. They’re makin’ it hard fer me ta concentrate, aye?”

“I do not make ‘little noises’ or ‘little movements,’ Mr. Fraser! And if I were, I’d say to you, ‘offer me better entertainment’ if they’re bothering you, so I’ll stop,” she challenged him saucily.

Jamie growled deep in his chest and blew out a breath through his nose, trying to calm his tumultuous energy, “lass, what did I say about defying me? Do ye remember?”

Claire smirked and lowered her voice, “Oh aye, _Master Fraser_ , I do. And I’m not afraid of you!”

Jamie cocked an eyebrow, “Is that so, a nighean?”

“Aye, ‘tis.”

“Ye wouldna want ta reconsider that statement?”

“Nope.”

“Alrigh’ then.” Jamie gently rinsed the conditioner from Claire’s hair and wrapped her head in a towel. He removed the washing station and stepped over to the bed, but didn’t raise the head as Claire expected. Mystified, she asked, “Jamie, aren’t you going to raise the head of the bed for me?”

“Nope. I want ye right where ye are.” He smirked and Claire saw the devil dancing a jig behind his eyes,

“For obvious reasons, I canna punish ye by laying ye over ma knee and spankin’ that beautiful bottom of yers until it’s as red as a cherry, Wee’un.” He leaned over the bed, “So, I’ll have ta improvise, unless ye find it within yerself ta apologize fer defyin’ me,” 

Claire set her mouth in a thin, hard line, closed her eyes and turned her head away so she couldn’t see Jamie.

“Ah, it’s ta be like that, aye, ye leanabh stòlda (stubborn child)?”

Without another word, Jamie took his thumb and forefinger and carefully turned Claire’s face to his and kissed her with all the bottled-up passion that had been burning a hole in his gut for the last few days. Her delicate tongue butterfly kissed his lips and he allowed her inside. Claire could taste coffee, chocolate and a tiny bit of whisky and moaned in delight.

Jamie fisted her hair in his hand and pulled gently so that the kiss was broken and Claire frowned and pouted, “Jamie, I wasn’t done with that kiss!”

He captured her wrists in one hand, looked her straight in the eye, “That’s alright, Claire.” She looked at him, astounded. “Today’s about what you need, not what you want. I’ll be deciding what ye experience. I can see I’ll haveta try somethin’ else, Wee’un.” He pushed her hands over her head carefully and whispered, “Keep them there, a nighean.” Claire saw passion and desire burning in his eyes and was shocked at the intensity. All she could do was nod wordlessly.

He stroked her velvet cheek with a finger and kissed a nonsensical pattern all over her face and neck. He inched his fingertips underneath the towel covering her torso and waited for her permission to continue. She whispered, “Go ahead,” and he began massaging her torso, making sure to use a firm touch so he didn’t tickle the woman who stoked all his appetites.

He kneaded and rubbed and picked up the hem of the towel slightly so he could press his warm lips underneath her belly button. Her answering quiet whine made his eyes flash with pride. He rolled up the towel slowly and teasingly and made sure to massage her every step of the way. He licked her ribs and massaged the lower part of her solar plexus, wincing slightly when he heard it pop as tension fled. He breathed warm, moist breath over where he’d just massaged and didn’t forget to kiss his way down until the towel was completely unrolled and her beautiful luminous skin was hidden from him again.

Claire opened her eyes again and Jamie smiled at the bold desire there, “Oh, God, mo ghille mòr làidir (my big strong lad), that felt wonderful, thank you.” She brought her hands back down onto her lap.

He smiled gently and shook his head, “No, mo bhanrigh shìthiche inntinneach (my enchanting fairy queen), your punishment continues. I’m not convinced you’ve learned your lesson yet, aye?”

“Oh, Jamie,” she breathed his name and it was like she kissed his soul. He gathered the top hem of the towel covering her chest and looked to her for permission,

“Tha, Seumas ruadh, coimhead air do bhoireannach (Yes, Red Jamie, gaze upon your woman),” Her fingers curled into the towel and she tugged it away from Jamie and then her body. The towel slithered away lazily, revealing her beautiful skin swath by swath. Claire maintained eye contact with him the whole time.

Jamie’s mouth dropped open in wonder and he kissed her with renewed passion. As the kiss ended, he asked, “Did ye mean it, Claire? Are ye my woman? I’d very much like it if ye were.”

Claire smiled, “Yes, darling, if you’ll have me, I’ll be your woman.” She picked up his huge hands and hissed at the delicious warmth they provided, God, you’re like a heated blanket, Jamie! How do you not burn yourself to a crisp every day?”

Eyes crinkling in a giggle, he snorted and said, “I steer clear of matches an’ lighter fluid, Wee’un.”

The punishment continued as Jamie kneaded and massaged Claire’s breasts. He was enamored of them. They were beautiful and just right for his hands. He licked and kissed her nipples until they puckered and Claire squealed behind the crook of her elbow. The massage continued until Claire and Jamie were panting messes and Jamie’s cock was about to start barking for attention. They finally broke apart one last time. Jamie knew if he didn’t stop he’d have a very wet ride home, “Alrigh’, a nighean, do ye understand the consequences fer defyin’ yer man, now?” His eyebrow cocked jauntily.

“Oh, yes, _Master Jamie_ , I do now. Thank you for the lesson – It was just what your woman needed,” and Claire winked at him. 

Just before he gathered his jacket to leave, Claire whispered silkily, “Kiss me, Jamie. You’re my man now.”

His answering smile was so beautiful it would have made any sun god pick up his toys and go home, “Aye, that I am, Sorcha, mo ròs fìnealta (my delicate rose). He kissed her passionately, winked and was gone.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, y'all, this is a very short chapter. We are puzzling out the outline of the next and I need brainspace for that. Let me know what you think, please!

He heard the “swish-clunk” of the room door behind him and he strategically arranged his jacket so his arousal was hidden. He quickly arranged himself and strode to his truck, trying to distract his thoughts so he could drive to work safely. 

He arrived at the Moriston-Beauchamp house and was greeted by the crew. Angus called out, “Jamie, ye look a wee bit flushed. Were ye visitin’ Claire, by chance?” And grinned like a demon. The rest of the men joined in, cat-calling and teasing him until he was even redder in the face,

“Och, bit of a curse and give us peace!” he called with a wry smile (A/N: if anyone knows what this means, please let me know!). He walked around the house, happy that it was essentially done except for cleaning the wood floors and a major clean-up on their part.

He went outside again into the warm sunshine, checking that the ramps were to his satisfaction, dragging his fingers down the lip of the ramp to make sure that Claire’s chair wheels wouldn’t jar her when she was brought into the house. Thankfully, the incline was very slight and Jamie hoped it would be smooth enough for her. - Lamb and Firouz pulled up from the grocery store with drinks and salad ingredients for everyone. They’d gone into the freezer the night before and retrieved large containers of chili and cornbread. Lamb remembered that morning that a coconut cake was there, too. He wasn’t sure if they’d have enough dessert, so he’d pulled out a pan of lemon bars, too. Both sat with the other food on the counter. The men washed up for lunch and Angus and Rupert asked if they could help, “Oh, thank you, would you mind bringing these things to the table?” Rupert and Angus brought the condiments to the table and passed them around, including several small pots of soft butter. Brian, Jamie and Ian all worked together on the salad and were surprised when Firouz showed them an old trick with a cut garlic clove. He squeezed it a bit between thumb and forefinger and rubbed it on the interior of the cavernous salad bowl, “My mother always did this for flavor,” he said, smiling. Jamie and Ian brought the salad and bowls out and Brian took care of drinks for everyone. Lamb and Firouz worked together, Lamb in the kitchen and Firouz setting the table and soon, all the men were seated around the table enjoying each other’s company. As Lamb and Firouz brought out the food, Lamb announced, “This here is Claire’s homemade beef and lamb chili. She doesn’t make things hot, but she does spice them. You’ll find a choice of spices and such on the table. I’ll be back in a minute with the cornbread.”

Firouz dished up the chili and the men politely waited to start until Lamb had returned, “This is southern buttermilk cornbread. It has no gluten and no sugar in it. Most of the time, people slice it open and put butter on it and eat it with their cornbread or, crumble it into their chili if they want.” He sliced the entire pan of bread into generous squares and served it to everyone.

Soon, the sounds of contented eating filled the room, punctuated by grunts and sighs of satisfaction, “mmm,” “oh, this is good!” and “Oi! Hand me the chili flakes, mate,” and “Please pass the butter.” Each man had at least one more bowl of chili and Jamie and Rupert went back for thirds until the pot was scraped so clean it looked nearly unused. The conversation revolved around the changes to the house and how Claire learned how to cook. Lamb smiled, “Oh, my sister taught her Scottish recipes, my brother-in-law’s mother taught her the rest and made a point to teach her all her Southern recipes. Perhaps if you’re all very good, she’ll make her banana pudding one day.” 

Firouz smiled at his love and chided, “Now, Lamb, don’t be a tease.” Murmurs of “Banana pudding?” were heard and several of the men pulled out their phones and googled the dessert,

“Oh, good Lord,” whispered Brian, staring open-mouthed at his phone, “Look at that.” 

Lamb continued, “She was making full dinners by the time she was 14, and with no help at all. She also makes excellent haggis.” Lamb smiled at the surprised looks around the table. 

Ian smiled and said, “Whomever Claire marries will have to exercise a lot to keep the weight off with the way she cooks, eh, lads?” The men chorused, “Aye!” And all eyes turned not-so-surreptitiously to Brian’s son, who blushed and looked away.

The men all got up and cleared their plates and bowls. Angus insisted on rinsing the dishes and Jamie loaded the dishwasher. Angus chirped, “It’s the least we can do after such a feast, gentlemen!” Lamb pulled out their second coffee machine they’d bought to handle coffee requests at get-togethers with friends. Soon, the aroma of Columbian single-origin, fair-trade organic regular and decaf coffee perfumed the air. Lamb brought out sliced lemons, heavy cream, milk, granulated sugar and raw sugar, also offering hot tea from their Brown Betty to those who wanted it. Firouz started slicing and serving the cake and lemon bars at the table and everyone passed down plates until everyone had one. Lamb poured the men all coffee and invited the men to all dig in, which they all did. When the sour-sweet of the lemon bar hit Angus’ tongue, he squeezed his eyes shut and moaned in ecstasy, “Tha’s it, Claire’s have tha magic,” he whispered, “Jes’ like my mam’s. Lamb, Firouz, I havena eaten lemon bars this good since my mam passed,” and his hosts saw a sheen of moisture cover his clear green eyes. Rupert squeezed his best friend’s shoulder comfortingly, “Aye, lad, these are just as good as yer mam’s, God bless ‘er.” Firouz immediately cut Angus another larger square of the tart treat and directed the younger man to pass his plate, “Come on, son, Claire made these to be enjoyed. May we tell her how you enjoyed the bars, please?”

“Aye, ye may. Please pass my compliments to the chef!” 

“Aye, an’ from me!”

“An’ me!”

“Don’ ferget me!”

Rupert rumbled, “This cake is, oh,” he said, scooping another bite into his greedy mouth, “So good!”

Jamie knew that his best friend loved coconut, “Ian, what do ye think o’ the cake?”

Ian held up a hand, silencing the redhead, “Shut it, Fraser, I’m havin’ a moment.”

Jamie waited a minute or so and snorted, “Aye, but try not ta drool on Claire’s table, would ye?”

Ian finished his bite and swallowed, looking almost sad that the cake was gone and snarked, “I promise nothing, sir!”

Brian eyed the cake and bar and tried a bit of both on the fork at the same time, “Oh, goodness, that’s great tagether! Jamie, try it, aye?”

“Alright, Da,” and Jamie balanced two large bites on his fork and let the flavors mix together in his mouth, “Oh,” he groaned, “That’s lovely, aye, Da, ‘tis delicious!”

The men all polished off their desserts and took a few minutes to let their food digest. Before heading back to work, they ignored their hosts’ protests and did all the clean-up, firmly directing them to the kitchen table and more coffee. Brian smiled and said, “Nay, we’ll do it. That was a princely feast and we’re grateful. Please let us do it.”

The men drifted back to work, all rubbing their bellies contentedly.


	18. Chapter 18

Claire realized that 2:00 p.m. was coming entirely too fast and swore under her breath. Of course, she wanted to do the rehab so she could get herself back home. The problem was Christie. What if he touched her inappropriately again? She thought for a moment. She could be flighty sometimes, but she wasn’t one to imagine things. She replayed the previous day’s therapy and realized that she _hadn’t_ dreamed up Christie’s trespasses. Could she ask for another therapist? She called the physical therapy department and asked if there was anyone who could help her instead of Christie. The administrative assistant asked, “May I ask why you’re requesting another physio?” Claire refused to elaborate; she didn’t have proof and didn’t want to accuse Christie of something as egregious as sexual assault without solid proof. The admin came back on the line and apologized profusely, “I’m sorry, Ms. Beauchamp, there is nobody else on shift today. Let me check the schedule for the rest of the week, alright? I’ll be right back with ye, one moment please.”

Claire prayed that there’d be someone else. The admin came back on the line, “No, I’m sorry, Ms. Beauchamp. One of our physios is ill and the other one is sick; Tom is the only one available.”

Claire swore to herself, “No, no, I apologize. It’ll be fine, really. I’m sorry to have troubled you. I’ll be ready for someone to pick me up at two p.m. as usual.”

 _Fuck_ , Claire thought to herself. She texted Geilis, “Of course, Tom is the only one in the physio department for the rest of the week!”

Three small jumping dots appeared on her screen, “Shit. Did ye write everything down as I said?”

“Yes; I’ve done that. I’ll take careful notes today as well, don’t worry.”

“I’m still canvassing the staff and I’ll let you know if I hear anything, Claire.”

“Okay, thanks, G. See you later?”

“Aye, hen.”

Geilis rounded the corner and arrived at the nurses’ station. Laoghire MacKenzie was getting ready to leave, shrugging on a pretty teal wool cardigan and putting her coffee carafe in her backpack. She zipped up the main compartment and looked up, “Hi, Dr. Duncan, how are ye?”

Geilis smiled, “Hi, Laoghire, I’m well, thank ye, and ye?”

“Och, I’m braw.” The blonde smiled, “Is there somethin’ I can help wi’?”

“Aye, I was jus’ about ta get some air. Can I walk wi’ ye outside?”

“Aye, I’m just goin’ ta walk ta Glenna’s for a coffee. Would ye care ta join me?”

Geilis looked at her watch, “Aye, I have about an hour before ma shift starts – I was here catchin’ up on paperwork.”

The two women crossed the street and entered the brightly lit cafe. Geilis gestured to the cardigan, “That’s a beautiful cardigan, Laoghire, where’d ye find it?”

The blonde smiled brightly, “Thank ye, my granny knitted it for me. Ach, here she comes now!”

To Geilis’ surprise, Glenna herself came over, a broad smile on her face, “There’s ma darlin’ girl!”

“Granny!” Laoghire got up and embraced her Granny and kissed her on both cheeks. “Granny, this here is Dr. Geilis Duncan, we work tagether.”

“Hello, Mrs - ?”

“MacKenzie, Doctor.”

Mrs. MacKenzie, I’ve been a fan o’ yer scones and muffins fer too long, now. I’ve enjoyed liter after liter of your coffee. It’s helped me ta stay awake durin’ ma shifts and is a sight better than the slop they have at th’ hospital. I’d like ta put it in an IV for long shifts,” and Geilis grinned impishly.

Glenna blinked at Geilis in disbelief, her eyes crinkled and she and Laoghire burst out laughing, “Thank ye, Dr. Duncan, I appreciate it.”

“Please, call me Geilis, Mrs. MacKenzie.” Glenna smiled, “And call me Glenna, lass, ev’ryone does.” She smiled and asked, “Now, what will ye two be havin’?” I jus’ pulled some cranberry orange muffins out o’ the oven an’ I happen ta have some fresh Cornish clotted cream on hand, brought by courier just this mornin’. How does that sound with a carafe of coffee?”

Geilis’ greedy mouth watered, “Oh, aye, thank ye, Glenna!”

“Granny, that sounds grand. Can I help ye get it ready?” Laoghire made to get up and Glenna tut-tutted, “Nay, lass, stay here with yer colleague! Ye can help me on the weekend if’n ye want ta come in, aye?”

Laoghire’s eyes sparkled, “Aye, Granny, thank ye!”

Glenna bustled away to get their order ready. Geilis turned to watch her and the petite woman stopped at the counter and called, “One two-jug, leaded, two orange turkeys, two bricks with squirrels, two junior cornishes!”

The man behind the counter repeated it to the kitchen and another woman started the order.

Geilis looked at Laoghire, bewildered, ““Laoghire, I had no idea Glenna was yer grandmother! And, um, what was that?”

Laoghire giggled, “Well, Granny developed her own lingo here so the employees can hear her over the noise of guests and the diner itself. Let me translate for ye: a two-jug is a carafe of coffee for two and leaded is caffeinated coffee, two orange turkeys are two orange-cranberry muffins, ‘cuz you eat cranberries around American Thanksgiving, right? Two bricks with squirrels are two brownies with nuts and two junior cornishes are two small servings of Cornish clotted cream.”[1]

“Ah, ok. Thank ye. Ye may be wonderin’ why I asked ye ta come get a coffee wi’ me, Laoghire.”

“Yes, I was wondering. Is everything alright?” The blonde had a wary look on her face.

“With ye? Aye, everythin’ is okay. I heard somethin’ from a patient about one of our colleagues an’ I wanted ta ask ye if ye’d heard anythin’

“Who?”

“Tom Christie.”

Even before she finished speaking the man’s name, Geilis watched as Laoghire’s rich brown eyes, sparkling a moment before, narrowed into dangerous slits. Geilis wondered if she even realized it was happening. Laoghire’s plump lips flattened into a line so faint Geilis could hardly see them and the small blonde stiffened like she’d seen the Medusa.

She spat out, “Did that slimy bastard touch one of our patients, Geilis?”

Geilis eyes grew round with surprise, “Is this a known thing amongst the nursing staff?”

Laoghire rolled her eyes, “Aye. The man’s a disgusting octopus – an’ I like octopus an’ don’ like insultin’ them!”

Geilis choked on her coffee and managed to swallow it down with difficulty, “Do ye know if anyone has ever reported ‘im?”

“I dinna know, Geilis. I can ask aroun’. She looked up under long blonde lashes, “It’ll be easier fer me, ken, I’m a nurse.”

Glenna brought their food and it smelled wonderful. The muffins were still warm from the oven and the brownies had been heated to the perfect temperature.

“Here we go, lasses, enjoy” Glenna smiled and hurried to her next customer after pouring the coffee and setting down a small pot of coffee cream.

Geilis offered the basket to Laoghire first and took a muffin, slicing it apart and spreading the cream on each half. She moaned in appreciation when she bit into the tart treat, “Oh, this is so good! An’ not too sweet!”

Laoghire looked pleased, “Aye, Granny doesn’a believe in too much sugar in desserts. How’s the coffee?

“Uhhngh, om nom nom, a balm ta ma soul.” Geilis inhaled deeply and a dreamy expression settled on her face, eliciting a grin from her dining companion.

“Anyway, as I was sayin’, ye’re probably righ’. Ye’d get more honest answers than I. It was Claire Beauchamp, by the way. She said his touches were so light she wasn’a sure he’d really touched her or she’d imagined it.”

“Tha’s his way. He starts out barely touchin’ ye an’ then it escalates. I think a lot of the girls dinna want ta be seen as wee clipes, so they dinna say anythin’.”

“Claire’s worried because she has an appointment wi’ him tomorra an’ there isn’t anyone else ta take his place.”

Laoghire set her jaw, “Tha’ wanker is only trouble an’ is goin’ ta land this hospital in court one day for sexual harassment. I’ll go wi’ Claire tomorra an’ make up somethin’ about thinking about goin’ inta physical therapy one day an’ jus’ observe. I like Claire, an’ I know the young man who’s been visitin’ her likes her an awful lot, too.” She giggled and whispered, “He gave me a ‘break’ the other day an’ washed Claire’s hair fer her. The noises I heard when I was in the hallway were anythin’ but innocent!” She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking with laughter.

Geilis’ mouth dropped open, “They fooled aroun’ in th’ hospital? Jesus!”

The blonde hissed, “Ye didn’a hear it from me!”

“Naaaaw, no worries, lass.” Geilis smirked.

“Ye know, Laoghire, I’d hate for Jamie ta find out that Christie’s been botherin’ Claire.”

Laoghire’s eyes widened in alarm, “Aye, Geilis. Ye’ve seen Jamie’s arms, aye? An’ his fists, they’re the size of boulders. Christie’s built, but no’ like Fraser. We canna say anythin’ ta Jamie, but I’ll advise Claire that she should tell him if Christie won’t lay off.”

“Aye. Claire’s a straight-shooter an’ is afraid o’ nothin’, I’ll tell ye that, Laoghire. She’ll try ta set him straight before goin’ ta Human Resources and _especially_ before she tells Jamie.”

Geilis checked her watch, “Shite. Ma shift starts in ten. I need ta get goin’. She took twenty pounds out of her wallet and laid it on the table, “Tell Glenna I said everythin’ was lovely, would you, please? An’ Laoghire, thank ye fer helpin’ Claire.”

“Anytime I can, Geilis, an’ thank ye fer the coffee an’ the chat,” and the blonde smiled and started gathering the dishes, expertly balancing them on her arms, perfected after many years of helping at the cafe during school breaks.

Back at the hospital, Geilis visited Claire on her lunch break. She looked sympathetically at her friend, took a deep breath and said, “Claire, I was jus’ talkin’ wi’ Laoghire. She says that Christie’s tried shite before wi’ other nurses when they’ve gone in ta help him an’ they didn’a want ta be the first ta speak up. He’s never been reported to Human Resources.” 

Claire’s mouth dropped open, “Are you kidding me, Geil? He’s done this shit before?”

“Evidently so. So, Laoghire’s goin’ ta go wi’ ye tomorra an’ watch the little rat ta make sure he keeps his paws ta himself.”

“How’s she going to explain that to him?” Claire scratched her forehead gently from right to left, something that she always did when she was thinking or troubled.

“Och, leave tha’ ta her. She’s goin’ ta say she’s interested in physical therapy or somethin’ like tha’. Don’t ye worry about Laoghire. She notices a lot more than she lets on. She’s definitely in your corner, hen.”

Well, that’s kind of her. Hopefully he won’t touch me again.”

Geilis could see storm clouds gathering in Claire’s face and acted quickly to divert her attention and grinned, “And how’re things wi’ you an’ yer Gingersnap?”

Claire blushed, “Well, he came by yesterday and we had a nice talk.”

Geilis laughed in Claire’s face, “Aye, I’ll just bet ye did. A ‘talk,’ ye say? Yer red-as-a-tomato face says it was more than that, Claire, fess up!” And Geilis’ green eyes flashed wildly with mirth.

“Shut it, Duncan, that’s none of yer beeswax!” mumbled Claire, picking distractedly at her blanket.

“Fine, fine, don’ bite my head off, ye rabid Chihuahua,” laughed the redhead.

“God, Geilis, I’m – I’m,” Claire struggled to form words. Geilis and Joe were familiar with this. When Claire was struggling to put words to thoughts, the best thing to do was to simply wait. Trying to hurry her along would just fluster and embarrass her.

“Claire, it’s okay,” Geilis said softly, “Take yer time, love.”

Claire growled in frustration with herself, “Argh! Geil, I’m falling... I’m in love with him! I’ve known him for less than a month!” She covered her face with her hands and slowly exhaled a shaky breath right as Joe walked into the room. Geilis heard him take a breath to say something and held up her hand in warning, turning toward Joe and gesturing to the second chair near the bed. He nodded quickly and sat down silently. Claire removed her hands from her face slowly and saw Joe. She grabbed for him like he was a life preserver. He scooted forward and encircled her in his arms. She whispered into his neck, “It’s so scary, saying it out loud, you guys. What do I do? I don’t deserve him.” She raised her head, straightened herself up and sighed. Geilis took her other hand and sat quietly. 

Joe pushed her back so he could look at her and snorted, “And why not? Even though you don’t believe it, Claire, you are worthy of his, or any other person’s love. Don’t insult me and Geilis by spewing that bullshit, Curly. I may not be the handsomest man in the world or a fashion plate, but I damn well choose my friends carefully. The fact that I’m still friends with you two lunatics after getting to know you inside and out is either a sign of long-term insanity, which has not been proven by science, OR,” and he arched an authoritative eyebrow, “That you ARE worthy of the love you have in your life – from your blood family and your non-blood family. Didn’t you tell us his sister’d said that you’re a Fraser now, whether you wanted it or not?” Joe cleared his throat and offered, “Well, Curly, as the only one of this trio with a twig and berries, I can promise you, he feels the same way.”

Claire’s face paled and her heart leapt into her throat. She choked out, “You know he loves me? How? Did he tell you?”

Geilis took Claire’s hands in hers, “No, not directly. When you fell asleep after we sedated you, he didn’t leave immediately. He sank to his knees in front of you, in tears, and said in [Gàidhlig](https://www.thefreedictionary.com/G%c3%a0idhlig) that he was sorry for what’d happened and he would love you forever.”

 _Oh, Jesus_ , thought Claire. _Do I tell him how I feel? Do I wait?_

“Hen, you’re going to immolate yersel’ if ye don’ stop those thoughts from hurricaning in yer heid, aye? Take a breath fer goodness’ sake.”

Claire did as directed and felt her chest and neck relax, “So, what do I do?”

Joe looked at her, eyebrows hunching over his orbital ridge in concentration, “Well, I can’t say what’s right for you, Claire, you know that. What does your _heart_ say? You know feelings are never wrong – only actions.”

“I’ve never fallen this hard for anyone, nor so quickly, y’all. This is such a different experience!” She quieted for a minute, closing her eyes and raised a picture of Jamie’s beautiful smile in her third eye. She raised her right hand, palm facing her friends, using her hand as an antenna to gather and focus universal energy. She breathed slowly, willing her body to release its tension and all the panic in her head. After about a minute, her breathing deepened and her eyes opened slowly. She said in a deep, relaxed voice, “Tell him. That’s what my heart says.”

“Aye, Claire, there ye go, then. Ye have yer answer.”

[1] I made all this lingo up but I patterned it after American diner lingo. Here’s a link: https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/31493/understanding-diner-lingo-55-phrases-get-you-started


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting another shorty, everyone! Please, as always, comments fully welcome unless you're a troll - then go back under your bridge and eat dirt, yeah?

At about ten to two, Laoghire came in and dialed down to physical therapy, “Aye, this is Nurse MacKenzie. I’ll be bringin’ Claire ta her appointment. No need ta send anyone ta collect her.” She listened for a few seconds, “Aye, I’ll be stayin’ fer the whole appointment.” She looked at Claire and mimicked someone talking too much and rolled her eyes. Claire covered her mouth and giggled quietly. Laoghire helped Claire into her wheelchair and crouched down so Claire could see her face, “I’ll make up something about why I wanta be there, don’t worry. My father’s people were spies for Robert the Bruce an’ the skill’s been passed down,” she giggled. “I’ll be watchin’ Christie like a hawk, too. Even he wouldn’t be so dumb ta touch ye ‘by accident’ when there’s another person there.” She smiled and the ladies went to the appointment. True to her word, Laoghire spun a fine yarn and Claire admired her ability to make up a story on the spot. 

Lamb always said that Claire and her mother had glass faces and couldn’t conceal what they were thinking, “Ye’d be a terrible spy, a nighean,” said Lamb fondly.

Sure enough, Christie was careful not to “accidentally” touch Claire with Laoghire present. The session went well and Claire could tell that she’d gained strength and flexibility since she’d started, which pleased her to no end. 

Laoghire was simply relieved that Christie hadn’t touched Claire inappropriately and helped her with a sponge bath when she was back in her room. Laoghire was about to leave when there was a knock on the door. There stood Fergus, who waved at Claire excitedly, his bookbag slung over his shoulder. Next to him was a man that Claire didn’t recognize. He was definitely over 6 feet tall; maybe an inch (2.54 cm) shorter than Jamie, but looked like his shoulders were actually broader than his older brother’s. He resembled Ellen Fraser, with high cheekbones and gray eyes. His hair was black, like Brian’s, but curly like Jamie’s. His well-built arms looked like they were about to rip his T-shirt sleeves in two. Laoghire looked at Fergus and craned her neck to look in the visitor’s eyes, “Aye, can I help ye?”

Rabbie looked down at the tiny blonde and blinked slowly. 

Fergus stage-whispered, “Uncle Rabbie, close yer gob!”and dug his elbow into his uncle’s side.

Rabbie didn’t seem to hear Fergus and kept staring at Laoghire. _Who is this woman? God, she’s bonnie_. He finally shook the fog off and wrenched his eyes from Laoghire’s peaches-and-cream complexion and light smattering of freckles, “Oh, excuse me! hello, Ma’am, I’m Rabbie, Jamie’s younger brother and uncle to this rascal here,” and Rabbie tousled Fergus’ hair gently. “May I come in, please?”

“Claire? Ye up fer visitors?”

“Sure, come on in,” Claire smiled at the young man who pushed Fergus ahead of him. He turned around and addressed Laoghire politely, “Thank ye, Ma’am. I appreciate yer help.” He stuck out his hand, “Rabbie Fraser, Nurse - ?”

She smiled easily, “Laoghire MacKenzie, Mr. Fraser. Glad ta meet ye,” and she slid her hand into his carefully.

Claire smiled to herself, Rabbie was certainly smitten. He kept shaking Laoghire’s hand and after a few seconds of this, she said, “Well, I need ta go, Claire. Mr. Fraser, Fergus, it was nice ta meet ye. She pulled her hand back gently and Rabbie felt the loss immediately. Laoghire left and Rabbie walked to the doorway and craned his neck, watching her walk away. Claire just caught a very faint sigh coming from the giant man and her eyes sparkled, _wait until I tell Jamie._

Rabbie joined Fergus and offered Claire his hand, “Ms. Beauchamp, as I said, I’m Rabbie, Jamie’s younger brother. I wanted ta come see ye and say thank ye fer helpin’ Fergus,” and both Frasers grinned widely.

Claire shook Rabbie’s enormous hand and winked, “I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time.”

“Madame, look what I made for you today in art class!” Fergus pulled a folder out of his bag and opened it. It was a picture of a very tall figure with red curly hair, one of a shorter figure with brown curly hair and what rather resembled a dress. The smallest figure had over-long arms, but stood in the middle of the two larger figures, holding what Claire supposed was their hands,

“Oh, Fergus, it’s wonderful! May I keep it here?”

“Oh, oui, Madame, certainly!” Fergus blushed and grinned at her praise.

“Rabbie, Fergus, please, sit down,” Claire smiled. The Frasers found chairs,

“So, Ms. Beauchamp –

“Rabbie, please call me Claire, alright? I’m already on a first-name-basis with the rest of the family.”

“Alright, please, Claire, call me Rabbie.” He smiled widely. “So, have Jamie and Da been keepin’ ye up ta date on yer house? It’ll most probably be done this week.”

“Well, I haven’t seen or talked to Jamie in a couple of days, I wasn’t aware that it had progressed quite that far, but that’s wonderful.” 

“Jamie never mentioned that ye have an accent, Claire. May I ask where ye’re from?”

Claire smiled and switched into [Gàidhlig](https://www.thefreedictionary.com/G%c3%a0idhlig), “I’m from northern Alabama, but my mam was from Edinburgh. My da was American. They made sure I was fluent in French and [Gàidhlig](https://www.thefreedictionary.com/G%c3%a0idhlig),” She tittered when she saw the huge man’s mouth drop open. Fergus rolled his eyes and whispered, “Uncle Rabbie! Yer gob?” and sighed exasperatedly.

“Oh, ah, aye, sorry, Claire. I was clean shocked fer a minute there. It’s rare ta find people who grew up in Scotland who’re fluent, nevermind people from elsewhere.”

“Sassenach, yes, I ken the word,” she said quietly, looking down at her lap.

Rabbie immediately blushed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’a mean anythin’” And Rabbie firmly shut his mouth and chastised himself, _Aye, there ye’ve done it, made an ass of yerself as ye always do!_

Claire looked through her lashes at his ashamed face and burst out laughing, “Got ya, Rabbie!”

Rabbie looked up, mouth hanging open again and the color drained from his face momentarily until he laughed at himself, relieved he hadn’t offended the petite woman in front of him. Fergus giggled at his uncle’s embarrassment and Rabbie shoved his shoulder teasingly.

“I’m sorry, Rabbie, I couldn’t resist, please, forgive me?” Claire’s eyes sparkled and Rabbie understood why Jamie was so taken with her.

He blushed to the tips of his ears and smiled, “Of course, Claire.” He held out his hand, “Friends?” She grasped his hand and repeated, “Friends.”

“So when do they think ye’ll be sprung from this joint, anyway?”

“Well, I’ve heard a rumor about next week, so cross your fingers for me!”

They all chatted for a while until they heard a soft knock on the door. Claire turned to look at the visitor and her face blossomed into a bright smile, cheeks flushed, “Jamie!” She breathed.

“Aye, a nighean, ‘tis me. May I come in?” Jamie smirked, leaning against the door frame.

“Oh, get in here, you idiot!” Claire laughed at his ridiculousness and Fergus got up to hug his Da. Jamie lifted the boy into his arms, groaning, “Och, mo mhac, ye’re weighin’ as much as a lorry these days. I willna be able ta pick ye up soon!”

Fergus gave his Da a kiss on the cheek and defended himself, “It’s Granny’s fault! She makes me clean my plate every meal!”

“Aye, I’ll haveta make sure she’s no’ puttin’ rocks in yer food, secret-like!”

Jamie strode over to Fergus’ chair and sank down in it, “How’re ye doin’, Beauchamp?” He winked at her. 

“Oh, you know, Fraser, just hanging out here because there’s totally no place I’d rather be, ken?”

“Aye, ye Yanks ha’ strange habits, fer sure,” Jamie chortled.

To his shock and dismay, Claire’s eyes misted with tears and her voice stumbled as she asked him, “W-what did you just call me?”

Jamie grasped her hand, “Wha’s wrong, Claire? I was just jokin’, callin’ ye a Yank because ye’re from the States, ye ken?”

Claire bit back on the tears fighting each other to trickle down her cheeks. She gathered her courage and whispered low, speaking slowly so she could control her emotions which were threatening to toss her good manners out the window headfirst, “James _Alexander_ Malcom MacKenzie Fraser,” and all the Frasers winced, hearing her use all his names. _Oh, God, lad, ye’ve stepped in it waist-deep this time_ , he thought, _better buckle up fer a bumpy ride!_

“I am a **_Southern_** lady, born and raised below the Mason-Dixon Line[1] and what you just called me is tantamount to someone calling you ‘Jock,’[2] as an insult, do you understand?”

Claire watched as understanding and a mist of embarrassed tears filled Jamie’s eyes, “O-oh, Claire, I’m so sorry, lass, I didn’a know!” All the blood had drained out of his face and he stammered, “Ken, I’d have never said it had I known, mo cridhe – can ye fergive me?”

Claire breathed out and took his warm hand in hers, “Of course, Jamie, forgiven. I was just so shocked to hear that come out of your mouth. I’m sorry for assuming you knew what that’d mean to me. Will you forgive me, too?”

“Och, o’ course I fergive ye, Claire. I kin understand it, lass. Truly I can. I’ve been called ‘Jock’ more than once when I was in England and it hurts!”

Claire smiled at the Frasers, “Well, I think that’s my cue that I’m turning into a pumpkin, gentlemen. I think I’d like to get to bed a little earlier than I have been. Rabbie, it was great to meet you. Fergus, sugar, thank you again for the wonderful drawing.” Rabbie nudged Fergus and said, “Goodnight, Claire, good ta meet ye. Come on, Fergus, we’ll wait fer yer Da in the hallway, aye?”

Fergus beamed at Claire, “Goodnight, Madame, sleep well! I hope I’ll see you again soon!”

Claire smiled and wished the Frasers goodnight as they rose and walked toward the hallway, talking quietly. She still hadn’t let go of Jamie’s hand and squeezed it lightly. He looked down at her and smiled a barely-there smile. She could see that the shock of hurting her feelings hadn’t left his eyes, “Will you sit down for a second, Jamie? Please?” She smiled encouragingly at him. 

“Aye, mo leannan, I will,” he said gruffly as he sat in the chair closest to her. She held her arms open in a silent plea for him to hold her. Jamie nodded and she wrapped her little hands around his neck. He reminded her, “I’ll count to three and lift ye on three, remember?”

She said, “Yes, Jamie,” and he slid his large hand underneath her and put the other on her back. He counted slowly, “One, two, and up on three,” and she was settled whisper-soft on his lap. He leaned over and covered her legs with his jacket that extended all the way to her ankles. She immediately circled his neck completely and buried her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder and sighed, all her tension from the day leaving her. Jamie felt her slump comfortably against him as he held her carefully, as if she were made of glass. He rubbed her back and rumbled sweet nothings into her jasmine and orange-scented curls, inhaling deeply, finally letting his stress trickle away from him. He bent to kiss her petal-soft cheek, “Claire, I want ta make sure that we’re okay after what happened. I canna tell ye – “

He was forced to stop talking when she laid her smooth fingers on his lips. She said, “Jamie, I already told you I forgave you – “

Jamie blurted out, “But ye didn’a have to, so quick, if tha’s not what ye felt, Claire. I’m worried ye did it jus’ because Rabbie an’ Fergus were here.”

She gathered his strong face in her hands, “Jamie, I forgave you, because,” and she took a deep breath and pushed through her fear, “because I’m in love with you, and you forgive those you love,” and a tear trickled down her face as she smiled at him.

Jamie gaped at her and started to cry as well, “Ye love me, Claire? Truly, mo nighean?”

She nodded, crying in earnest now, “Yes, Jamie. I know it’s fast and it’s sudden, but it’s how I feel. I’ve never felt like this before and I’m positive I’ll never feel this way again, for anyone but you. I want – “ She stammered, “I w-want us to be together, Jamie.” She looked up at him, her whisky eyes red-rimmed and puffy and her cheeks flushed with emotion. Jamie had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life, “Ye have no idea how I’ve ached ta hear those words from ye, Claire. I’ve loved ye since the first time we really met. I love ye and only ye, Claire.”

“Oh, Jamie, I love you, too, mo leannan.” Claire framed his handsome face in her tiny hands and kissed his lips delicately. Jamie whimpered, so she did it again and again, until Claire’s tongue licked Jamie’s upper lip tentatively, asking for access. He gladly gave it and their tongues caressed one another languidly and slowly, taking their time to commit one another to memory. Jamie couldn’t remember ever being so consumed by a kiss. Time and reality fell away until they were all that existed. Claire sighed into the kiss, which spurred her love to press her tighter to him. The kiss went on and on, filling their senses and cradling their hearts in their newly declared love. 

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mason%E2%80%93Dixon_line

[2] http://www.rsdb.org/race/scottish


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone,, for the multiple posts. I was trying to fix some effed up text and it didn't want to work... :/ my apologies!

The last week of Claire’s hospital stay dragged by. She kept going to physical therapy and noted that there were no more “accidental” touches by Christie, which was a relief. Laoghire seemed to have scared him off. Finally, Frank came by on Monday morning and reviewed Claire’s chart with her,

“Okay, Tex, everything I’m seeing here says that you’re ready to go home from our end. I know you’ve been chomping on the bit to go home for weeks now!” He looked down at his fingernails, “I’m just sorry it took so long, Claire, I know it’s been hard on you, and I wish it’d been faster.”

Claire clapsed Frank’s warm hand in hers, “I know you do, Frank, and I certainly also know you and your team did your level best to get me out of here quickly. I appreciate it, and I appreciate the whole team.”

He patted her leg, “Alright, so unless a Bengal tiger comes through and shreds you to ribbons, check-out is tomorrow. Are your uncles going to come get you?”

She pinked in response, “Yes, and Jamie, too.”

Frank smirked, “So, you and the ginger lollipop are doing quite well, if everything I hear is to be believed,” he teased.

Claire snorted, “Ginger lollipop! Uh, yeah, that’s one way to describe him,” and she blushed scarlet, “And, yes, things are going, well, as we’d say in the South, ‘finer n’ a frog hair split three ways!”

Frank laughed openly at that, shaking his head, “I’m glad to hear it, Claire. You need someone to keep you on your toes, for sure,” and he smiled as she made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Alright, it’s back to rounds after I corral my intern herd uh-gaaaaaain, ugh!” He groaned. I’ll try to stop by tomorrow morning early to say goodbye, alright?”

Claire giggled and pulled the lean man into a warm hug. She kissed his cheek and said, “Thanks, Frank, for bein’ a straight-shooter, I appreciate it!”

Laoghire came in after lunch to help Claire bathe again and Claire asked her to use the organic honeysuckle shampoo and conditioner Jamie had bought for her to try. Laoghire pushed the cap open and took a whiff of the concoction, “Oh, Claire, this is heavenly! It’ll smell divine!”

“You like the smell?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful. Let’s see what it does to yer hair, aye? And look, he even bought conditioner!”

Laoghire helped Claire get clean and after she was done, she smelled her own skin, “My goodness, this even smells good just on my skin! I hate to have to sanitize the fragrance away,” she grimaced. 

“Well, you might find it on the internet, you know? That’s where I find the most interesting things.”

That afternoon, Laoghire came back from lunch with Geilis Duncan. Mrs. Johnson at the front desk caught her attention, “Oh, Laoghire, there you are, lass, good! Some handsome young man came by and dropped this off fer ye while ye were gone.” Mrs. Jones held out a gold gift bag with glitter on it and a festive tag on it that said, “For you.” There was sparkly silver tissue paper in the bag that was artfully arranged over whatever was inside.

“Ooooh, Laoghire’s got a secret admirer,” teased Geilis, making kissy noises at her colleague.

Laoghire’s face went up in flames and she hissed, “Shut yer hole, Duncan!”

Geilis just snorted and the blonde turned toward the matron at the counter,

“Ah, Mrs. Johnson, what young man?”

“Aye, lass, strappin’ and broad-shouldered he was. Gray eyes and the most gorgeous curly black hair, about 6’1” (190 cm) with a jaw that could cut glass.”

Laoghire could have been knocked over with a feather, _Rabbie Fraser_ , she thought. _Oh my gosh!_

She felt around in the bag until her fingers touched something flat. She drew it out of the bag gingerly and set it on the countertop with the bag. As she unwrapped it, she saw “Hand Cream” and gasped,

“Oh, it’s the same brand as the shampoo and conditioner Claire Beauchamp got from her boyfriend, Rabbie’s brother, except this is honeysuckle and rose hand cream!”

She unscrewed the lid after finally managing to get off the safety wrapping and inhaled the scent, “Ohhh, it’s so wonderful!” She gave the container to the older woman, who heartily agreed, winked and said, “It looks like the lad is sweet on ye, lass, that’s a verra nice present!”

Geilis took the container from Mrs. Johnson, “Hey, Laoghire, this is some high-class stuff. Ye must’ve made quite the impression on the lad, good on ye!”

“But the card that came with the bag has nothing on it,” fretted Laoghire.

“Check the bag,” advised Mrs. Johnson. “My sisters and I never write on the tag that comes with the bag so we can reuse the bag, ken?”

Laoghire’s eyes danced, “Oh, aye, my mum does the same.” She rooted around in the bag and found the card, with a guava-orange envelope that was scented like the body cream. Her name was written in delicate dark-blue calligraphy on the front. She carefully opened it with a penknife Mrs. Johnson gave her and sighed when she saw the design of the card. A heavyweight champagne-colored card decorated with pressed flowers was revealed. She opened it breathlessly and read,

J _une 25, 2020_

_Dear Laoghire,_

_It was grand meeting you the other day. Thank you for helping Ms. Beauchamp; she means a lot to our family, as I am sure you know. I’d like to meet you for coffee or tea, if you’d like.My number is: 0131-86-75-309._

Yours,

Rabbie Fraser RAMIF@GMAIL.COM Mrs. Johnson smiled when she saw the young woman press the card giddily to her heart and place it back in its envelope. Geilis winked at Mrs. Johnson and giggled, “Oh, she’ll have wings on her feet the rest o’ th’ day, alright!” Laoghire kept her present in her locker and, indeed, she floated as if on wings for the rest of her shift. At the end of her shift, she knocked on Claire’s door,

“Hi Laoghire, how are you?”

“Oh, Claire, just look what I got!” Laoghire sat down and excitedly pulled her gift and its card out. “It’s from Rabbie Fraser, can ye imagine?” She glowed contentedly.

“Oooh, the hand cream! May I smell, please?”

“Aye, go ahead, use some if ye like!”

Claire sniffed at the light cream, loving how it simply glided onto her skin and barely needed to be touched before it melted into her thirsty cells.

“Well, I’d definitely say someone is interested in kindling more than a campfire, that’s for sure!”

Laoghire looked at Claire and burst into giggles, “Oh, Claire, ye have th’ most hilarious expressions, ye do.” 

Claire grinned, “So, girlie, you gonna call him?”

Laoghire blushed, “Aye, I think so. I haven’t been out on a date since I got out of school. Ye ken how it is, ye barely have time ta breathe in school, much less think about romance.”

“Oh, boy, do I ever! I didn’t know what to do with myself for a few days after I graduated from school!”

A mischievous smirk washed over the brunette’s face, “By the way, Laoghire, I remember Rabbie seemed to not want to let go of your hand the other day. Were you aware that he followed you to the door when you left and watched you walk down the hallway? I even heard a little sigh when he turned around.”

Laoghire stared at Claire, “Ye’re kiddin’, right? Oh, Claire, tell me he didn’a do that, please,” the blonde practically pleaded.

“Oh, no, no no,” Claire laughed at the nurse’s alarmed expression, “He did, he really did. Go ahead, ask Jamie when he comes tomorrow to get me.”

“Oh, yes, ye’re goin’ home tomorra, I heard tha’. Well, it’ll be less fun on tha floor wi’out ye, Claire, ye can bet.” Claire smiled and squeezed Laoghire’s hand, “Well, hopefully I’ll be working sooner than later and you and I can go out for a bite if we have lunch at the same time, right?”

“Aye, that’s somethin’ ta look forward to,” smiled the blonde, bashfully. After Laoghire left, Claire busied herself with gathering some of the things near the bed that she wanted to take home. She fell asleep soon after dinner. Later, Claire wouldn’t remember how her dream started, but she found herself in a strange house in the middle of a field of wildflowers. She walked around the house, exploring all the rooms and startled when she heard the door to the attached garage open and Jamie call out, “Mo nighean donn? I’m home.”

She smiled as she saw him appear in the front room and embraced the redhead, giving him a hungry kiss that left no doubt as to her feelings for him.

He smiled self-indulgently, “Now, tha’s the kind o’ homecomin’ a man dreams of, lass. How was yer day?” He asked as he toed off his shoes and put his backpack on the floor. 

“Oh, mine was fine. I went to physical therapy, did some knitting, reading, you know. I hope you’re hungry.” 

“Oh, lass, I was before I got home. As soon as I opened the garage door the aroma o’ yer cookin’hit my empty, defenseless wame an’ my poor mouth started waterin’. ‘Tis an especially cruel punishment fer a hungry man, ken?”

She snorted and laughingly said, “Holy cow, Fraser, that wasn’t overly dramatic or anything, thank God for small mercies!” Jamie snickered and his eyes sparkled. Claire blushed an especially becoming shade of pink at the hungry look in her man’s eyes. _Oh Jesus, he’s hungry for me, too..._ “I have chicken, greens and buttermilk cornbread just about ready, honey. Oh! And coleslaw, with strawberry shortcake for dessert. I decided to use Meemaw’s recipe for the shortcake again, instead of my mama’s. I haven’t made it here yet. Well, sit down and let me bring you a whisky, alright? Food’ll be up in 15 minutes.”

“Aye, love, thank ye.”

She busied herself pouring whisky for both of them and sat down after she handed Jamie his. They chatted about what Jamie was doing at work, including a project that was taking a lot of his time and energy. The timer on their vintage deep blue AGA[1]went off and Claire pulled the shortcake cups out of one door and the cornbread out of another, humming contentedly.

Claire had Jamie bring the chicken to the table as she put the greens in a bowl and chopped the ham off the bone from the same pot. She mixed everything together and carefully poured a good amount of pot liquor[2] over the mix and let that sit for a moment as she took the coleslaw out of the fridge. Jamie uncorked a dry white for Claire and got himself beer. He picked up the bowl of greens and the aroma snaked down to tease his bitching wame, making it protest even louder. He groaned his appreciation, “Och, lass, ye’ve outdone yerself. Thank ye fer yer work taday.”

She smiled easily, “’T’warn’t nothin’, as my Meemaw Beauchamp would say.” Jamie was so famished he ate half the chicken, two tall mounds of greens and ham, three large wedges of cornbread soaked with pot liquor from the greens, and a heaping bowl of coleslaw. He’d had coleslaw before he met Claire but preferred hers because it wasn’t overly sweet.

He finally finished eating and belched in satisfaction, drawing an eye roll and a giggle from Claire. He grinned and rubbed his contented tummy. He reached across the table to grasp Claire’s hand, “My queen, everythin’ was scrumptious. What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Claire smirked and got up for a minute and went to the fridge, “One sec, honey, I want to let the berries get to room temp before I assemble the shortcakes. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the kitchen and Jamie didn’t miss that she swung her hips enticingly, pulling a very deep and aroused rumble from his chest. She sprinkled granulated sugar on the berries and mixed them gently, setting them on the counter. She brought the whisky back with fresh glasses and set everything on the table. She slid smoothly into her seat and unbuttoned her shirt so just the edges of her clavicles were showing. “Whew! That feels better!

“Well, I’m going to put on something more comfortable. I’ll be right back, sweetie.”

“Aye, darlin’, I’ll be here.” Jamie settled comfortably on the couch and picked up today’s newspaper. Claire came back out a couple of minutes later and Jamie looked up and smiled, but his smile froze on his face and his next thought died where it stood as she stalked towards him swinging her hips, dressed only in her cherry-red silk robe that barely covered her delicious ass. Her feet were displayed in her five-inch (12.7 cm) black Louboutin stilettos sprinkled with crystals. His cock rose as if she’d whistled for it and he shifted un-fucking-comfortably in his now-tight jeans. He ogled her full breasts, caressed by the lucky, precious material. His eyes wandered down her luscious body to her stems. Claire may have been a petite woman, but she was curvy in the right places and long and lean in the others including her beautiful gams.[3] Those goddamn shoes. Jesus. He shivered remembering the first time he’d had her legs over his shoulders and could look to his left and right and see them. 

“You know, Jamie, I love these shoes, but I always have to stretch a bit after putting them on,” she purred, and her eyes flashed. “Will you spot me? You know, in case I lose my balance?” Her eyebrow arched in invitation and Jamie’s mouth was suddenly drier than sandpaper. All that came out was a faint squeak. “Jamie? Are you alright, sugar?”

Finally, she saw him blink and shake his head, “Aye, Claire, anythin’ ye want, mo cridhe!” He cleared his throat and stepped behind her, waiting for her to move.

“Will you hold on to my waist so I feel safe, baby? Please?”

“Aye, mo nighean donn,” he croaked out and held her waist gently. She stretched her hands up and widened her stance, causing her robe to tighten around her buttocks and Jamie groaned softly, licking his lips. She brought her hands down and down and bent at the waist, forcing Jamie to widen his stance as her body shifted slightly. Claire breathed quietly and started her descent to the floor. She was an avid yoga fan and practiced it at least three times a week. She groaned erotically as her body got closer and closer to the floor, “Hold on to me, Jamie, alright?”

“Aye lass, I ken.”

Jamie moaned as she bent down far enough that her robe no longer covered her ass – it was slithering up her back, exposing her ivory skin. He whined as he smelled her sweet honey and eyed her swollen pussy lips hungrily. Her anal cleft called to him and he growled as he looked through her legs. _Fuckfuckfuckfuck!_ She had her hands flat on the goddamn floor. Jamie’s heart pounded in his chest and he nearly came in his jeans when she bent her knees slightly, raised herself a tiny bit and, using her abdominals for balance, ground against his cock up and down, in circles and left to right. Jamie desperately tried to distract himself – Mam and Da having sex, Willie and his latest girlfriend, Ian and Jenny doing it on the kitchen table at Lallybroch, Mrs. O’Malley on the corner. But nothing worked, because she was still teasing him. He felt his cock drool on his boxers and panicked a bit, “Claire, mo leannan, please stand up. If ye keep doin’ that, I’ll make an unholy mess in my jeans!”

Claire turned around, “Ahh,” she said, “I’m more relaxed now, Jamie, how about you?” She smirked and he ground out, “Ye ken well I’m no’ relaxed, mo nighean, after yer wee show,” he pouted.

Claire got up and smirked wickedly, sitting in Jamie’s favorite leather club chair, both legs splayed lewdly over its armrests. Her robe gaped open and her nether lips glistened with arousal. Jamie growled in desperate need and scented the air, moaning as he smelled her body’s naturally musky perfume mixing with her sweet juices, a potent, heady mix and all his, if she’d let him touch her, that is. He stalked over to her and knelt in front of her, sliding his warm hands onto her thighs, but she shook her head as she saw Jamie stretch to kiss her, “No, Jamie, I don’t want to right now. Would you like to know why and specifically, why I made that dinner tonight?”

Jamie frowned. This wasn’t like Claire. Usually when they played like this, she always welcomed his amorous attentions after she’d wound him up. And boy, had she wound him up tonight, but she’d said no, so he reluctantly removed his hands. “Aye, a leannan, tell me what seems ta be weighin’ on yer heart.” 

“Let me get up,” she ordered in a hard voice. 

Jamie flushed in embarrassment and resentment at her tone but moved back and sat on his haunches. She whirled around to face him and her furious expression made him swallow audibly, _Shit._ “Well, a girlfriend from the hospital fucking called me today and said she saw you at lunch flirting with some other girl!”

Blood drained from his face and he stammered, “What? Oh! That was Annalise! She’s just an old school friend from college, a nighean. We never dated, nothing! We were platonic friends, I swear it! We hadn’a seen or talked to each other since university, honest!” He made to rise so he could give her some space but she ground out, “Stay on the floor, Jamie, if you don’t want to dig yourself deeper in the shitpile you’ve created for yourself.” He swallowed, “Aye, Claire.” Choosing caution over pissing her off any more, he sank back down on his haunches. He knew she couldn’t really hurt him physically – he was a foot (30.5 cm) taller than she and outweighed her by 100 pounds (55 kilos). Still, though, he’d had girlfriends get angry before and knew that keeping them as calm as possible was the best course of action. He couldn’t help thinking about the episode in the hospital before and she was starting to make him nervous, “Can we talk about this, please?”

He held his hands palms out in a supplicating gesture at the angry woman in front of him. She looked directly in his eyes and snarled at him... 

[1] https://www.agaliving.com/

[2] https://www.npr.org/sections/thesalt/2013/08/06/209543044/pot-liquor-a-southern-tip-to-save-nutritious-broth-from-greens

[3] “Stems” is an old American slang word for a woman’s legs, as is “gams.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!  
> If you are offended by the idea (remember, these are FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, people!) of BDSM, Light Bondage or anything of that ilk, please stop reading now.

Claire gave Jamie a withering look, “Stay on your knees.” Jamie didn’t reply, but he exhaled a careful breath and watched her go to their kitchen junk drawer and pull out something and hide what she could in her hand. It didn’t work very well because her hand was so small. Jamie could see an “e” on the lavender tube. She got a couple of kitchen towels and slung them over her shoulder and came to stand before Jamie, “Can you see what this is, pet?” Jamie focused on the tube – _Jesus! It’s the lube we like_ , he thought. _What the hell? She’s got a kinky streak? How did it take me so long to find this out? Jesus, I_ _am_ _a lucky bastard_!

She looked down at him to gauge his reaction and it was what she’d hoped for – leaning forward (did he realize he was doing that? Probably not), mouth open, panting slightly, pupils blown in excitement and a wee bit of fear. _Jesus,_ she thought, _he has a thing for kink? How did I not know this? Does he like to dom, or just be a sub? I guess I’ll find out one way or another. We could’ve had so much fun together already!_ _Dammit!_ _But gods, look at him, he’s magnificent and I’m the luckiest twit on the planet! Score one for the booby squad!_

She squatted in front of him, “I think you need a little discipline, love. You’re mine and I think you forgot that today – do you understand? To reinforce her point, Claire fisted his curls and brought his head back gently, “Now, be a good lad and take the punishment you’ve earned. I know what’s best,” she smirked and Jamie saw the vestiges of a saucy grin on her beautiful lips. “You shouldn’t need a safe word, but if you do, say ‘Highlander’ and everything will stop immediately, alright?”

“Yes Claire,” he breathed.

“Oh no, when you’re being punished, you call me Mistress, understand? I have to punish you for that infraction, lad,” and she reached down and caressed his face so gently Jamie closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure. 

When he opened them he whispered, “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“That’s – she kissed him gently and he groaned – “my good boy. Now, there will be no touching me unless I say you can, if you like something, you may beg me to repeat it and I’ll decide if doing so will please me,” and her eyes sparkled when Jamie whined softly, “You know already to call me Mistress, and oh,” Her voice deepened with arousal, “Get ready, baby, I’m gonna blow your mind!”

Jamie stomach flipped pleasurably and he choked out, “Yes, Mistress, thank you, Mistress!” She settled behind him on her knees and started licking and kissing his neck, going up and down, around to his throat, alternating with massaging and scratching his scalp, which made Jamie literally purr with contentment, “Are you my big cat, love?”

“Aye, Mistress, I’m whatever ye want me ta be,” Jamie was so relaxed at this point that he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Claire saw him slump a bit so she latched onto the junction of his neck and shoulder and bit gently, immediately laving the bite with her tongue. Jamie hissed in surprise and whispered, “Please, Mistress, do it again, please.”

She smiled against his neck and nipped him, moving on to his other shoulder. She bit him again, a little harder. Jamie didn’t jerk away or complain, so she laved that bite and filed the information away in her brain’s “KINK” file cabinet, now filled exclusively with an exhaustive list of Jamie’s body parts, each in its own manila folder, alphabetized for easier reference later, of course.

“Mistress – “ Jamie ventured, “No,” Claire answered. Whatever you want, it has to wait. I want to have my fun first then I’ll decide if I want to grant you a wish or two.”

Jamie swallowed, “Yes, Mistress,” and cleared his throat.

She settled behind him and reached around to his chest, smearing a bit of lube on his nipples, which pebbled immediately. He sucked in a breath and moaned happily. She caressed his nipples, twisting them back and forth, switching to tapping them with the palms of her hands. She stroked his hardened tips and pinched with her nails. Jamie shouted in surprise and shock and his Jamie’s cock jumped and strained painfully against his jeans. “Please, Mistress, let me loosen my pants, aye? I’m verra uncomfortable, please,” he begged.

She ignored him for a moment and started kissing his back, never stopping the nipple play. “Pet,” she said casually, “Have you ever come in your jeans? That might be interesting to watch – “ She paused for a split second, enjoying the look of utter panic on her man’s face, “But not tonight. I just did all the laundry, so you’re in luck, slugger. Here, will this be better?” She crawled around to him and pulled him up by his beltloops, then moved up to his stinging nipples. She blew warm soothing air over his skin and took a nipple between her lips, stroking and massaging all the hurt away with her tongue. Jamie’s cock started to pulsate dangerously as she gave his other nipple the same love. The redhead squeezed his hands into fists and focused desperately on not coming. Finally, blessed be, she stopped and kissed a line down his chest, abdomen and then his happy trail, lingering at his jeans button. She opened it and pulled the zipper down excruciatingly slowly. When it was all the way down, she stood up and ordered him on his feet, “Up, Jamie. Put your hands on your head and interlace your fingers.”

She smiled when he obeyed and bit his side playfully, making him giggle and his 8-pack ripple delightfully. She eased his pants and boxers down and said, “you can use your arms to balance yourself to step out of those clothes, love, go ahead.”

“Thank ye, Mistress.” He was naked quickly and Claire said, “Spread your legs wider and get your hands in position again, pet. I want to inspect my property.”

“Yes Mistress,” he growled out. She couldn’t help a small gasp at how beautiful he looked spreading his hard, muscled legs for her. His member stood ramrod-straight and its head was a needy purplish-red and shiny with a bit of precum. Black pupils crowded out the blue in his slanted eyes and he looked at her with unashamed, pent-up desire. She walked slowly around her living Adonis, openly staring at his beauty, from his hair to his chest, his abdomen and genitals. She couldn’t resist standing before him and raking her nails lightly over his thighs, eliciting a shuddering sigh from his panting mouth. She made a full circuit and slapped his ass a few times just to watch him clench a bit and eat up his surprised hiss.

She came around to face him again and shivered as his eyes sparked hungrily at her body’s response to his, “Are ye wet fer me, Mistress?” He cajoled in his best rumbly voice.

“Yes,” she stated boldly. She strode back to him, leaned over and licked the tip of his cock teasingly. He hissed and stiffened and then swore as she let her robe float off her shoulders and whisper onto the floor, “Och, Mistress, please, let me touch yer beautiful body. I want ta worship ye.”

“No. Remember what I said, this is about me and my wants?”

“I haven’t forgotten, Mistress. Please, let me make ye feel good,” he pleaded.

“Oh, honeypie, you are, don’t you worry about that!”

She squeezed some lube onto his cock and spread it around and then, to his surprise, grasped him and started fisting him. Jamie’s eyes rolled back in his head and his wame flipped somersaults like a chimp in a circus. His eyes fluttered closed and he allowed his head to loll against his powerful shoulders. Claire kept this up until she’d decided what she would do for him next. “Jamie, come!” She barely gave him time to come back to himself before she started leading him very slowly to the kitchen by his cock, massaging it the whole time. Jamie bucked when she squeezed his root and slid her hand up again.

“Mistress, please, stop! I dinna want ta come before ye want me to an’ if ye don’t stop now!”

She stopped walking and turned her head, “Oh, very well. Come, pet!” and started walking towards the table again. “Move that chair, Jamie. Then I want you to face the table.” She waited until he was done, “Good. Now, bring your hands down, face the table and spread your legs.” He let his arms hang at his sides and spread his legs about shoulder width until she ordered, “wider.” He moved his legs a bit more apart, “That’s good. Now, you may lean over the table and cradle your head in your hands, if you like.” When the huge man was in the correct position, he heard the “snick” of the lube opening and the sound of Claire dabbing her fingers with it. She knelt behind him and breathed warm breath on his balls, enjoying his shocked hop forward, which made the solid farm table groan in protes”Jesus! Cl- I mean, Mistress! I wasna expecting that!” She just giggled and caressed his balls with her fingers and tongue, pulling groans and breathy curses of delight from the man she loved most in the world. She mouthed his balls singly and together and Jamie warned, “a bit more o’ that an’ yer boy will spill on yer table, Mistress. I dinna want ta disappoint ye, please, have mercy!” She laughed throatily and Jamie gave up. He knew when he was beaten (and he was relieved she hadn’t thought to do that, _yet_ ). Thankfully, the wee minx did stop but what she started doing wasn’t actually better. She straightened up and ordered him to put his hands behind his back, “Stay bent onto the table, like a good boy, Jamie.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Holy God, what was she up to now? I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet,” he mused. He heard her step away from him and her knees crack as she squatted. She came back to him and he felt her robe’s silk tie loop around his wrists. She leaned forward and whispered, “I’m going to punish you now for addressing me improperly. You’ll get fifteen strikes and thank me for every one or I’ll add five for each count you forget, do you understand?”

 _Shitshitshitshitshit,_ Jamie growled to himself. But to her, he answered, “Y-yes, Mistress, I understand.”

She took the wide leather paddle and rubbed it on his buttocks so he could get used to it. He could feel its round form, like a table tennis paddle, but with odd ridges and dips on its surface. Suddenly, Claire leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Remember, I’m doing this for your own good,”

“Aye, Mistress,” he rumbled, huskily.

“Alright, pet, Mistress is ready to begin.”

“Thank ye fer tha correction, Mistress.”

“You’re welcome, pet,” And she leaned forward and kissed his temple.

She got into position and rubbed the paddle on his buttock, popping him lightly, _smack!_

“One, thank ye, Mistress!”

The second came on the other cheek, “Two, thank ye, Mistress!”

Smack! “Three, thank ye, Mistress!” and Jamie shuddered when he felt her fingers caressing his balls again. She massaged him and _smack! Smack! Four and Five, thank ye, Mistress!”_

“Oh, no,” she tut-tutted at him,”You have to count them singly, boy. You should have said, “Four, thank you, Mistress! And then, “Five, thank you, Mistress!” I’m afraid you just added another five strikes to your total.”

Jamie swallowed heavily, “Thank ye fer tha correction Mistress, I’ll do better, I promise.”

He could hear the smile in her voice, “I know you will, mo cridhe. Shall we continue?”

 _God, I can’t believe I’m going to ask her to beat me,_ Jamie thought ruefully. “If it pleases ye, my lady.”

“Very good, pet! I’m proud of you. I shall allow you to call me ‘my lady’ or ‘Mistress’ from now on.” She sank every finger into his scalp and scratched so gently, making him purr again. He almost considered flubbing his count again to get more rewards like that. He moaned when she pulled on his balls a little then let them go suddenly and resumed spanking him, thwack! “Six, thank ye, my lady! Strikes seven, eight and nine passed without incident, until Claire started fisting Jamie’s dick again. He moaned in ecstasy and then shouted when he got three quick but smarting taps on his upper thighs “Ten, thank ye, my lady, ahhhh, ma achin’ cock! Eleven, thank ye, Mistress!” and he almost lost count when she slipped her hand under his balls, “El- NO! Twelve, my lady, thank ye!” He whined when he felt her palm his cock head and spread precum on the tip, “Please, Mistress, dinna punish me; I corrected myself!”

“I’ll let it go this time, pet. You need to pay attention, though.”

“Th-th – “ Jamie ground out, “Thank ye, Mistress.”

Claire’s voice was suddenly very quiet, “Well, Jamie, aren’t you going to ask me to continue?”

“Oh, aye, Mistress, will ye please continue at yer pleasure?”

“Thank you, pet, I will. I know this is new, so if I stop again, you have to remember your count and ask me to continue, are we clear?”

“Aye, my lady, thank ye, again, fer the correction.” He nearly screamed when Claire’s little finger eased into his meatus and then the damn paddle hit him harder on his backside, “Thirteen, Mi-Mistress, thank ye.”

She stopped again and he cleared his throat, “Mistress, if’n it pleases ye, will ye continue ma punishment?”

“Yes, I will, thank you, my love.”

She smiled coyly and massaged his frenulum, making him whine with building want.

She resumed the strikes and Jamie’s ass got warmer and more tender with each stroke. On the fourteenth, she licked his balls after hitting him. For the next five strikes, Jamie barely hung on. His ass was on fire, but every time she hit him, she played with him like a cat with a mouse. Stroke sixteen was particularly snappy but she licked and sucked his frenulum, catapulting him into ecstasy. Strokes seventeen through nineteen were burning, screaming agony, but she took both testicles in her mouth and hummed, loving how Jamie stiffened and cursed. Strike twenty was nothing like any of the others. Jamie tensed as he heard the whistle of the paddle, expecting his ass to explode in agony. Instead, she tapped the paddle whisper-gently against his tender skin and Jamie breathed out, “Twenty, thank ye, Mistress!”

“You did so well, pet, I’m giving you a reward.” She untied his hands and helped him stand. She got him a large water and gave him plenty of time to drink it. When he was finished, she said, “Wasn’t that water delicious, Jamie?”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “Aye, ‘twas, my lady, thank ye.”

“Hands on the top of your head, Jamie, interlace your fingers. Here comes the last part of your punishment.”

Jamie’s mouth dropped open and he snapped it closed quickly. He was tired and in a bit of pain, but he realized that the warmth created by the paddling was spreading pleasurably throughout his body as he felt a relaxing rush of endorphins flood his system. He decided keeping quiet was the least dangerous option, assumed the position she wanted and prayed to make it through this night. She coated her hands liberally in massage oil and caressed and loved his red skin until he was so relaxed he thought he was going to melt into the carpet, “Oh, Mistress, ye spoil me so, bless ye.”

Jamie gulped as she slinked around to his front and purred seductively, “Oh, the spoiling hasn’t even started love, you’re my dessert appetizer; you knew that, right? My throat’s a little parched and you can help me out with that, can’t you? After all, sharing’s only polite, right?” 

She laughed at his shocked expression and he joined in with her until she engulfed his cock all the way down – then he shouted her name. She licked, sucked and mouth-fucked him until he grew dizzy with raging need. He felt the warm tingle start up in his balls and warned, “God, Mistress, oh Jesus, I’m gonna cum, please, keep doin’ that! Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, wishing his hands were free to sink into Claire’s hair. She pulled all the way off of him, grabbed the lube, slicked him up and gave him the best titty-rut he’d ever had. She made sure to push the tops of her breasts inward so he’d feel her on all parts of his dick. He snapped his hips into her over and over again, blind with the rage of pent-up lust and roared his satisfaction. She could feel he was getting close because his He panted and swore and finally shouted, "Oh, my lady, please! I’m comin’ an’ I canna hold back!" She deep-throated him and he screamed, “Claire!” and the sheer force of his jism rocketing out into her thirsty throat nearly toppled him. Rope after rope hit her throat and she drank it all down, not spilling a drop. He lowered his trembling hands as she let him slip out of her mouth. On shaky legs, Jamie sank to his knees in front of her, took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. They knelt with their foreheads touching, calming and soothing each other. A shaft of light pierced the night and Claire thought it was strange to hear birds twittering and chirping. She floated out of her dream and opened her eyes, wishing for the first time in her life for a cigarette.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m surprised nobody commented on Rabbie Fraser’s phone number in Ch. 20... 😁
> 
> Second – I’m blowing the bulls**t whistle long and loud on myself for mentioning archaeological discoveries that don’t exist and were completely pulled out of my... um. Yeah. Please work with me here, people, ‘kay? 🙄

The night before Claire was to come home from the hospital, he took his crew, Lamb and Firouz out for a celebratory beer at the Stag and Thistle, a pub near the Moriston house that was owned by his friend Seumas Preston, a 6’ stocky muscled weightlifting redhead. The brawny man had a thick fire-kissed braid down his back. His kind eyes were blue-green, framed by pale lashes and a tangle of deep laugh lines. His pale skin was sprinkled generously with freckles, ensuring he always had to apply sunscreen generously if he wanted to go out into the sun. He had a strong nose, a generous, kissable mouth and a dimple in his chin that seemed to drive the lasses crazy. Seumas sported a well-kept goatee, a winning, handsome smile and had memorized entirely too many dad jokes – he always said that a silly joke was the best icebreaker. Like Jamie, his beauty attracted a fair amount of attention and Seumas was always pleased that it was from both sexes. Jamie and Seumas had met in 5th grade when Seumas moved up to Broch Mordha from the lowlands of Scotland. Jamie had been the only boy to greet him and eat lunch with him on Seumas’ first day and the two of them had been friends ever since. 

Seumas smiled broadly when he saw Jamie, “Oi! Fraser! What’re ye doin’, darkenin’ the doorstep o’ my fine establishment, then?”

Jamie laughed, “I’m bringin’ a little class to the place, ye bodach nàimhdeil (hostile old man)!”

Seumas laughed, grabbed his rag and wiped up a bit of water from the bar, “So, what can I get ye gentlemen tonight?”

“Well,” Jamie looked around the bustling noisy bar echoing with the clink of glasses and dishes, toasts and laughter. He didn’t see who he was searching for, “it looks like ye’re short-handed tonight. Is Morag not here?”

“She’s off havin’ her first bairn, can ye believe it? She got an ultrasound th’ other day an’ it’s a lass. When she came in to tell me, she cried all over the bar. She and Alex are over the moon.”

Jamie smiled gently, “Aye, that bairn is lucky wi’ parents like that. Good fer them. Just give me a shout when everythin’s ready an’ me and the boys will come an’ get it ourselves, aye?” Just then a large table became available and he grabbed a rag sitting in a container of disinfectant before Seumas could protest and wrung it out. Jamie had worked in bars during school and had no problem stepping in here. He wiped off the seats and table quickly and brought the rag back to the bar.

Seumas’ eyes lit up in relief, “Thank ye, a charaid, I appreciate it. So wha’ can I get ye?”

Jamie ordered two bottles of whisky along with several appetizers for his hungry men. 

Seumas called to him when everything was ready and he, Brian and Rupert brought everything back to their table. Jamie distributed whisky glasses and poured everyone a drink, “First of all, I’d like ta thank each an’ every one o’ ye fer workin’ so hard to ensure everything was on-point fer this job. Lamb and Firouz have assured me Claire will love what you’ve done an’ I thank every one of ye fer yer work. I’d also like ta thank Lamb and Firouz fer sharin’ Claire’s cooking wi’ us and bein’ so open ta our ideas.” Jamie raised his glass to the men and they raised theirs to him and all drank. The men spent the next hour chatting and discussing their next job. Jamie finally got to speak to Firouz about chess and they happily agreed to set up a match when Claire was settled at home. Lamb and Firouz enthralled the men about their travels and Angus asked, eyebrow raised, “So, gentlemen, what are your favorite finds of all time?” Firouz and Lamb smiled and both said, “Claire!” The men chuckled and Willie snarked, “I bet she’s Jamie’s too!” Jamie flipped his brother the bird and poured Willie another whisky. Brian encouraged the couple, “Really, what was your favorite thing you ever found? Both of you.”

Firouz said, “Let me think. I’ve found so many interesting things over the years it’s difficult to choose just one.” He got lost in his memories for a minute and looked up with a smile, “Has to be when we were in Honduras. I found an emperor’s death mask. It was carbon-dated[1] to around 500 BCE[2]. It’s in the Louvre now.” Looks of awe and wonder and murmurs of appreciation were heard around the table.

“Aye, and Lamb?”

“Och, that was a gold armband I excavated in Ireland. It was from Celtic times. It was decorated with silver beads and emeralds and had been made in modern-day Greece. The find proved that trading routes extended much farther than previously thought. It’s in their National Museum of Archaeology.” Rupert spoke up, “how long have ye been in yer trade?”

The spouses looked at each other lovingly, “Well, since the late 1960s. We met on a dig in modern-day Iraq.”

Rupert smiled at the obvious affection, raised his glass and drank to their accomplishments. 

Jamie excused himself to use the restroom, located past the bar in a narrow hallway. On his way back, Seumas stopped him, “So, Fraser, I heard from a little birdie that Fergus’ near-accident had a happy ending fer ye,” and he smiled, eyes twinkling. 

Jamie rolled his eyes, “Would this little birdie have eyes like mine, be as short as a snake in the grass and twice as mean as said reptile?”

Seumas pantomimed drawing a zipper across his closed lips, “I’ll never tell, Jamie. That might turn off the chitter-chatter spigot, ken?”

Jamie blushed and rolled his eyes but smiled in spite of his discomfort of kissing and telling. “Aye, ‘tis true, I willna lie. Her name is Claire. She’s the bonniest woman in th’ world, Seumas. She ran out into the street wi’out a thought for her own safety an’saved Fergus’ life – “ Jamie had to clear his throat to get his emotions under control, “we love each other. Fergus loves her too, an’ Claire’s uncle and his husband are here wi’ us tanight. As a thank you we renovated her house to be wheelchair accessible and age-in-place appropriate.”

“Och, well then, I’ll comp ye a plate o’ appetizers as a ‘congratulations’ gift, lad.” 

Jamie smiled, “Thank ye, a charaid, ye dinna have ta do that.”

Jamie heard a high-pitched scrape as the man who’d been sitting a couple of seats farther down the bar got up to leave, “Sorry fer tha’ noise, mate,” the man slurred and swayed unsteadily into Jamie.

“Dinna fash,” said Jamie kindly and heard something hit the floor. It was the man’s credit card. Jamie retrieved it and couldn’t help but see the name embossed on it, _Mr. John Entwhistle_. He saw the man pull on his jacket sloppily and fumble with the zipper. Something about that name made Jamie’s wame gurgle nervously, “Hey! Are you John Ent – ?” _Why did that name sound familiar?_ Jamie wondered. Then it hit him and his face drained of blood – the little town newspaper, The Broch Mordha Sunrise, routinely published records of locals who’d been arrested on a variety of charges[3]. Jamie and Fergus had been waiting for Mam to take her to the Galleria and Jamie distractedly read the “Arrests and Convictions” page, stumbling upon a short article about how a John Entwhistle had been arrested for drunk driving on the day of Fergus’ near-fatal accident. The article mentioned the accident in detail, including that Fergus (identified as “a minor” in the article, of course) had been saved by a mystery woman who’d pulled him out of the vehicle’s way just in time. His hands clenched into fists and he stepped over to the man, trying desperately to remain cool-headed. He growled, “Are ye John Entwhistle from Broch Mordha who was arrested fer drunk driving in Edinburgh a few weeks ago?”

The man shook, frightened of the huge, musclebound redhead in front of him, “Y-yes,” he stammered, his face now ashen.

“And did ye hit and injure a woman and man and nearly hit a little boy?”

He looked down and whispered brokenly, “Aye, I did, sir. A-an I’ll regret what I did for the rest o’ my life.” Remorseful tears dripped down Entwhistle’s face and he shuffled from one foot to another, not daring to look at the hulking redhead in front of him.

“Jamie!” growled Seumas, “Watch yerself, friend! Don’t do anything rash, aye?” He eyed his friend and saw fury so deep and primal that he feared for the other man’s life.

Jamie didn’t even hear Entwhistle’s apology or Seumas’ warning. He only saw red and couldn’t hear anything as unrelenting rage burned a deadly path through every cell in his body. He picked the other man up and roared, “Ye almost killed ma bairn, Entwhistle, ye godforsaken bastard!”

Just as at the scene of the crime, Entwhistle was airborne before he knew what was happening. Before Seumas could get out from behind the bar, Jamie leapt on top of Entwhistle, smashing the drunk’s face and body to a bloody pulp with his enraged fists, snarling in disbelief, “Ye permanently injured an innocent lass an’ ye’re here drinkin’? What’s wrong wi’ ye, ye monster?”

Seumas yelled, “Brian, Willie, Rabbie! Come quick!” and attempted to pull his friend off the prone, profusely bleeding man. He grabbed under Jamie’s arms to try and pull him away and Jamie simply planted his massive hand on his chest and shoved Seumas out of the way as if he weighed as much as a mouse. Seumas’ head hit the ancient wood floor, eliciting a sympathetic hiss from several patrons who jumped to help him sit up. The three other Frasers looked over, confused. Brian swore, “Oh, fuck!” and yelled, “Jamie, stop!” the three of them ran over with Ian, Angus and Rupert on their tails. Lamb made to stand to try to help and Firouz shook his head in warning and firmly grasped his forearm, forcing his love to sit down again. It took Ian and the Fraser sons to pull a screaming Jamie away from Entwhistle, now so bloody as to be nearly unrecognizable. Angus and Rupert moved Entwhistle to safety and checked his pulse – thank God, the man was still breathing. A barmaid gave them a stack of towels and a bucket of water to try to clean Entwhistle’s face. In the distance, an ambulance’s wail could be heard.

Jamie howled in rage and fought against his his family, desperately trying to get to Entwhistle, “I will lay my lady’s vengeance at her feet! Da!” Jamie rasped desperately, eyes wild, fists still clenched. I’m beggin’ ye, let me go! He must pay!” With his three sons holding on to his struggling second eldest, Brian knew that the only thing to do was to let Jamie tire himself out. 

His normally gentle, cheerful, glass-half-full son reminded Brian now of the first Jamie Fraser, a true Highland warrior for whom honor and duty was everything. His nickname was “Seumas Ruaidh,” or “Red Jamie,” because of his red hair. It was said that he fought ferociously in clan skirmishes and had been accused of a murder he didn’t commit. There were many family stories about that Jamie, but the best ones were about Jamie and his true love, Elizabeth Claire, Clan Fraser’s healer. Their love story was legendary. They first saw each other at a neighbor’s Hogmanay celebration and fell instantly and irrevocably in love. That gave rise to the Fraser legend that said a Fraser will always recognize their true mate immediately, which had happened for Brian and Ellen. For Jamie, there was never a reason to look at another woman for the rest of his life and his “wee Bibi” simply knew that her husband hung the sun, moon and stars just for her. They’d married young; Jamie was 21 and Elizabeth 19. They were together for over 60 years. They had six children together who gifted them 22 grandchildren, including two sets of twins. Jamie would go to any lengths to protect his “eun beag,” or “little bird,” or anyone else under his protection as Laird Broch Tuarach. The blood-thirstiest story went something like this: Elizabeth had gone to visit her parents and was attacked by brigands while on the road; her unfortunate escort was slain in cold blood. The men crowed to each other about holding Lady Broch Tuarach prisoner all that day and into the night until she managed to escape, but only after the men had severely beaten and sexually assaulted her. It was said she’d used her last strength to call to her love when she reached their home. He tore open the door and Elizabeth fainted right into her husband’s massive arms. Jamie was so distraught he didn’t leave her side until she was able to open her eyes the next day. He bathed and fed her and tended to her wounds himself. He slept on the floor next to her bed and allowed no other to comfort her through her harrowing night terrors. When Elizabeth was out of danger, Jamie gathered his clansmen and hunted down the scoundrels who hurt her and kept her from him and their children. He beheaded both and brought their heads home in a sack to prove to his wife that she needn’t fear them any longer. Many years later, when his wife passed into the next realm, Jamie was so overcome by grief that his soul fled his body before the clock struck midnight so he wouldn’t have to go even a single day without her.

When the ambulance arrived, the EMTs squeezed their gurney through the door. As at the accident, one was brunet with a nametag that read “MacQuarrie” and the other was “Bonnet,” the blond who’d spoken to Brian. As Bonnet saw Brian, he greeted him with respect, again in [Gàidhlig](https://www.thefreedictionary.com/G%c3%a0idhlig), “So, old friend, we meet again. How are you?”

Brian grimaced, “I’ve been better. This mhac na galla is the same one who nearly hit ma grandson. Jamie saw him at the bar and, well,” Brian gestured helplessly towards the prone man still on the floor.

“Aye, an’ I woulda finished the job had I the chance!” snarled the redhead to his father, glaring furiously into Brian’s eyes.

Brian barked, “Jamie, that’s enough! Ye calm down right now or so help me, I’ll take ma belt ta yer backside like I did when ye were wee!”

Jamie had the sense to lower his gaze and huff out an apology – he knew his father well enough to know that it was no empty threat, “I’m sorry, Da.”

The police had arrived in the meantime and once they heard what’d happened, they moved to arrest Jamie for assault. Brian stepped in and said, “This man was driving drunk a few weeks ago and nearly hit Jamie’s son. I’m sure ye can understand how ma son felt seein’ the man free an’ drunk _again_ ,” Brian’s voice was so low it was almost a growl. “He also hit ma son and permanently injured a young woman in that accident.”

The officer’s eyebrows rose, “Is that so? Well, let’s see if the ‘gentleman,’” and he made quotes in the air with his fingers, “wants ta press charges.” He walked down to Entwhistle, “Sir, are ye prepared ta press charges against the young man, here?”

Entwhistle looked at the officer with his one good eye, the other swollen and red from the force of Jamie’s fist, “Nay, no charges, officer.” Jamie slumped a bit in relief and his brothers and Ian released him carefully. Bonnet said, “We’ll load him up and come back and dress your hands, Jamie, no arguments now, aye?” and smiled at the redhead.

Jamie blushed and smiled, “Aye, I’ll wait fer ye, thank ye.”

MacQuarrie and Bonnet came back a few minutes later and started working on Jamie’s hands, “So,” MacQuarrie cleared his throat, “Did ye ever find out what happened to the lass, Jamie?”

Jamie blushed hotly and both men grinned, “Unfortunately, she’ll probably have a limp after this, but she’s done verra well wi’ her physio an’ she’s leavin’ the hospital tomorra. My company’s retrofitted their cottage so she can be independent. Her uncle and his husband are at our table.” The EMTs’ eyebrows rose in surprise, so Jamie continued, “Aye, her name is Claire Beauchamp an’ she’s a surgeon. Her mam was from Edinburgh but her da was from Alabama, an’ that’s where she grew up. She’s fluent in the [Gàidhlig](https://www.thefreedictionary.com/G%c3%a0idhlig) an’ has the prettiest accent. Christ, she’s the bonniest, canniest lass I’ve ever met.”

MacQuarrie said, “An’ I suppose she’s a good cook too, aye? Brains, brawn and talent in th’ kitchen?”

All the men groaned in fond remembrance of the food they’d had so far, and several nodded and answered, “Oh, aye.” Ian smiled, “God almighty, tha’ man who puts a ring on her tiny finger will haveta work out a lot to keep the weight off.”

Bonnet smirked, “So, Jamie, it sounds like ye’ve been spendin’ quality time wi’ the lady,” and he grinned, “I suppose she’s off tha market now, or?”

Jamie laughed, “Aye, mo charaid, we’re tagether. Ye’re too late!”

MacQuarrie quipped, “Does she have a sister?” Jamie shook his head.

All the men laughed and the tension in the air evaporated. Bonnet and MacQuarrie finished dressing Jamie’s hands. “Well, that oughta do’er, Jamie. Be careful wi’ yer hands fer a couple o’ days, keep them dry. In two days check them an’ if they’re lookin’ and feelin’ better, ye can remove the bandages or _have Claire do it!_ ” Bonnet smiled mischievously as a red-hot blush streaked up Jamie’s neck and face. MacQuarrie clapped Jamie on the shoulder, “Take care, lads.”

Jamie made his way to the bar and paid the tab and put an extra one hundred pounds on the bill for Seumas’ trouble, “I’m sorry, Seumas, there was no excuse fer actin’ like a savage in yer bar. I shoulda taken it outside. I apologize fer shovin’ ye as well. Are ye alrigh’?”

“Aye, dinna fash, Jamie, any honorable man woulda done what ye did. I’m sorry to hear about Claire’s injuries. I hope ye’ll bring her by one day so I can meet the lass who took Jamie Fraser off the market,” Seumas grinned and shook Jamie’s hand. Brian and the rest of the men gathered their things and said goodnight to Seumas and headed out into the warm night. All Jamie wanted to do was pick up Fergus and go home to bed. The faster he could fall asleep, the faster he could pick up his love come morning. 

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radiocarbon_dating

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Era

[3] I don’t know if this is a thing anywhere else, but small local newspapers in the US often have “police blotters” that list the names of those recently arrested for crimes.


End file.
